


Here Is the World

by CarriePlum



Series: Sirius and Annabelle [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Coming of Age, Drama, Fluff, Gay Male Character, Gen, Humor, Romance, Sexual Content, Violence, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 18:55:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 208,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4716809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarriePlum/pseuds/CarriePlum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Sirius Black's final year at Hogwarts, and tensions are running high. The stress of internships and N.E.W.T.s, combined with heart-breaking events and threats from wannabe Death Eaters are making school feel like a battle ground. Sirius is determined to protect those he cares about most, no matter what the cost. Subplots/OCs/all four marauders/drama galore. (Part 3 in series.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Peace, Love, and Liquorice Snaps

**Author's Note:**

> If you're new, I recommend starting with Meet Me with a Smile, since I've made some minor changes to canon (nothing earth-shattering) and introduced several OC's into the mix. Otherwise, you may find yourself confused.
> 
> To the readers that have been following along – I debated whether or not to skip seventh-year, but I didn't want to gloss over some important canon events, so I'm giving seventh-year its own story. The canon stuff makes it difficult to adhere to a tight narrative, so some of it might read like vignettes, but there will be an underlying plot.
> 
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of J.K. Rowling. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author of this story is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

_.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-._

_"Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don't be afraid."_

_-Frederick Buechner_

_.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-._

_August 1977_

**Cokeworth Herald**

**A flash-flood ravaged Hartsleigh on Wednesday, forcing a coach full of small children off the road and down a hillside. Current reports state that of the 15 children injured, 11 are in stable condition, and 4 remain critical. Authorities don't yet know what caused the flood, but an investigation is taking place.**

**###**

It was the last week of summer freedom, and Lily and Annabelle were taking a break from packing their trunks. They sat on sun chairs in the front garden, sunning themselves and stuffing their faces with muggle goodies. Annabelle cracked open a can of Lilt and took a swig, then smacked her lips together and said, "Ahhh, good stuff."

Lily giggled, her mouth full of salt and vinegar Hula Hoops. Once she swallowed, she said, "Why does summer always have to go by so fast? Wasn't it just June?"

"I don't know, but think of it this way. One more year until freedom."

Lily felt a nervous flutter in her stomach. The thought of careers, living arrangements, and fears over where her friends would end up… would she be living at home with her mum and dad, lonely, wasting her abilities? Would she and James drift apart? Her chest ached at the thought. Also, there had been a sudden increase in Voldemort's activity, which made her bristle at what he had in store. Frank had said to remain vigilant, but vigilant of what? Or more specifically, whom? The future was daunting, and she wished it away, wanting to hang onto to the present for as long as she could.

She was about to tell Annabelle her fears when Max, the fastest owl at Hogwarts, swooped down from the sky and dropped a letter in Lily's lap. The next door neighbour, Mrs. Baird, had been watering her rose bushes and did a double-take as the owl winged away over the rooftops.

"Bloody birds," Annabelle said loudly, shaking her fist toward the sky for Mrs. Baird's sake. "Always dropping rubbish on us!"

Lily choked on her laughter, and Mrs. Baird shook her head and went back to her roses.

The girls ducked inside with the letter, preferring to open it without the woman's prying eyes upon them. They sat down on the sofa, and Lily broke the seal. Her forehead was creased as she pulled out the letter, her eyes scanning the page.

She slapped her hand over her mouth. "Oh my Merlin," she gasped.

"What is it?" Annabelle almost shrieked, not sure if it was good or bad news. Kaye Evans rushed into the room from the kitchen, drying her hands on a tea towel.

"Is everything all right, dear?"

Lily's mouth hung open, her hand fluttering wildly as she stared at the letter. "I… I…"

Annabelle's eyes were wide. She bounced a little on the sofa and said, "What is it, Lil? Just spit it out!"

"I got head girl."

"What?"

Lily tipped the envelope into her hand, and out fell a small badge. The words _Head Girl_ were engraved on it.

 _"_ _I got head girl!"_

Annabelle jumped up and the two girls hopped about, hugging and squealing. Lily's mum hurried over and joined them in their celebration.

"I can't believe it," said Lily. "I wasn't even trying anymore. I… I thought for sure they'd give it to Gloria or that Ravenclaw, Hester Tullet."

"Why?" asked Annabelle. "Your marks were as good as theirs, and you've got the leadership qualities. All the professors adore you. You deserve this!"

"I know, but I hadn't heard anything, and Gloria's a prefect, so I didn't think… _James!_ I have to write James! Or should I wait and surprise him?"

"You should surprise him," said Annabelle.

"Ohh, it might kill me to wait!" Lily began fanning herself with the envelope. "Merlin! I'd given up hoping for this ages ago."

"My daughter, head girl," said Kaye, her eyes misty. "We needed some good news after what happened to those poor children."

"What happened?" asked Lily, her smile fading.

"Didn't you read the morning paper, dear? A flash flood drove a coach full of school children off the road in Hartsleigh. It was a miracle they survived at all. But now we have this wonderful news to think about. Wait until I tell your sister!"

Lily and Annabelle exchanged uneasy glances.

"I doubt she'll be pleased, Mum."

"Oh Lily, you always think the worst of Petunia. I'm sure she will be proud as punch!"

Kaye skittered back to the kitchen and they could hear her dialling the phone. Lily grabbed the morning paper off the end table and the girls headed back outside; neither wanted to hear the strain in Mrs. Evans' voice when Petunia's reaction wasn't what she'd anticipated.

Strangely, Lily didn't feel the triumph over Petunia that she thought she would. After the whole Wide-eye Potion drama and James' wise words, she'd gradually lost her need to prove herself to her demeaning sister. Becoming head girl was something to be proud of, but she no longer cared how Petunia felt about it. Now, her relationship with her sister consisted mainly of enduring her, and trying to keep some semblance of a bond for their parents' sake, even when Petunia had broken that bond long ago.

But the story about the children had dampened her excitement.

"How awful," said Lily, after she read the article about the flood aloud.

"A flash flood… how strange."

They exchanged ominous looks, both too afraid to voice their thoughts.

Finally, Annabelle said, "Do you think it could have been…?"

Lily couldn't stomach the thought. "I hope not," she said abruptly, glad that if it was caused by Voldemort, he didn't succeed.

The girls got up extra early the next morning, and after loading their trunks into the back of the Evans' estate car, they settled in for the long journey to King's Cross Station in London. Lily's head girl instructions indicated that she would have to be at the station an hour before the train departed to oversee the proceedings and lend support when needed.

"This whole magic thing worked out better than I ever thought possible," Mr. Evans said as he pulled out of the driveway. "A head girl in the family. I'm so proud of you, Lily."

Lily smiled, happy that they were happy. "Thanks, Dad."

Three hours later, after a couple pit stops, several sing-alongs, and one ceaseless discussion over who might have been named head boy, the girls said goodbye to Lily's parents. Annabelle thanked them profusely for allowing her to stay with them, but Kaye quieted her with an embrace and said, "You are always welcome in our home, Annabelle." Annabelle's eyes warmed with tears.

"Write soon, dear!" Lily's dad called.

The girls wheeled through the barrier at Platform 9 ¾ and spotted James and Sirius almost instantly. James looked busy, directing first years and answering questions that parents seemed to be bombarding him with, while Sirius casually leaned against the wall, an amused half-smile gracing his perfect lips.

"I wonder why they're here so early," said Annabelle, her heart growing wings at the sight of him. The boys were usually the last ones there, sometimes arriving mere seconds before the train left the station.

"James!" Lily called, and he turned his head in her direction. She ran to him, and he swept her into his arms, squeezing her tight. "I have to tell you something," she said.

"And I have to tell _you_ something."

She loosened her grip on him and grinned, bouncing on her toes. "You first."

"No. You first."

"No, you!"

"Okay," said James. "You are never in a billion years going to believe this, but I promise you, it's entirely, one-hundred percent, the truth. Not sure how, but I'm not lying. I prom-"

"Go on, tell me!"

He held his head high and said, "You are looking at the new head boy."

Lily's mouth fell open.

"I told you it was unbelievable," he said, "But it's true. See?" He pulled out a folded paper from his pocket. "I got this letter a few days ago. At first I thought it was a prank, but my dad owled Dumbledore to confirm, and it's true. Say something, Lil."

It was better news than she could have imagined. They'd have an official excuse to spend loads of time together.

"I'm just… amazed…"

"I know what you're thinking, Remus should've got it. I happen to agree with you – "

"No! I mean, Remus would have been a great head boy, but you deserve it as well. Your marks were high last year, and Dumbledore respects you, James. He really does."

They all knew that Remus was only briefly in the running for head boy. Dumbledore had sat him down at the end of last year and discussed the pros and cons for someone with his condition being given such a huge responsibility. It would look great on his CV, and future employers might be more likely to overlook his lycanthropy to have a former head boy working for them. On the other hand, Dumbledore worried that it could become difficult to keep his secret. The prefects might notice a pattern to his absences, and no matter what excuses they came up with, someone would likely put two and two together, which meant he'd have to leave school entirely, without taking his N.E.W.T.s. And that wouldn't bode well for his future.

Remus agreed that it was for the best that someone else get the job, and was content to remain a prefect. Fortunately, Claire was back in his life at that point, so he got over the disappointment quickly, too smitten with her to dwell on much else.

"Yeah, I don't know," said James. "I think Dumbledore might've made a mistake, but we'll see."

"Why aren't you wearing your badge?"

"Shite, I almost forgot." He pulled it out of his pocket and attached it to his shirt. "Now, I feel like a complete swot. What's your news?"

She pulled out her own letter and handed it to him. As he read, his smile grew and he let out a laugh. "Now, this is _not_ a surprise at all. That settles it, Lil. It's fate."

"What is?"

"You and me," he said, pulling her close. "We are Mr. and Mrs. Head Boy and Girl. Or King and Queen if you prefer."

"Don't get cocky, James," she said, brushing her nose against his. "This is a job, and you have to take it seriously."

"Oh, I will. Can't let you have all the glory, now, can I?"

Just as he was about to kiss her, he saw some confused parents and their frightened first-year wandering around, clueless.

"And I think I'll let you handle them," James said, nodding in their direction. "I need a break. Being head boy is hard work."

Lily shook her head at him, but inside she was floating on air. Everything was coming together so perfectly, and the future suddenly didn't feel so scary.

Meanwhile, Annabelle ambled over to Sirius and leaned against the wall next to him. She didn't say anything, just smiled and watched the crowd. Sirius glanced at her from the corner of his eye and smiled as well.

"So," he said, "You come here often?"

"A few times a year, actually. You?"

"Same." He nodded slowly and crossed his arms over his chest. "I have to say, I feel like I know you from somewhere. Can't quite place it."

"Yeah? Funny, I don't recall meeting you before."

"No, I'm almost positive we've met. In fact, I think I can jog both our memories, if you'll let me."

Annabelle scooted closer to him. "What did you have in mind?"

Sirius pushed himself off the wall and stood in front of her. "This."

Their lips met, and after a long, languid kiss that made Annabelle feel weak, she said, "Ah yes, it's coming back to me. One more of those should do it."

"My pleasure," he said with a grin, then kissed her again.

"Mmm, yes, that definitely rings a bell. Wait, you're that charming gentleman that accompanied me to the theatre last weekend for my birthday."

"See? I told you we've met. Maybe we should skip this train ride and find a hotel. Get reacquainted. What do you think?"

"Tempting offer," she said. His grey eyes and sly smile suggested what he was thinking, and she actually considered his proposition, but then she reminded herself that this was their last train ride back to Hogwarts after a summer break. The last one ever. "But after this year, we can do whatever we like, and whenever we like, no consequences to worry about."

"You worry too much."

She pressed her lips to his, her fingers sliding through his long black hair. He tasted like raspberry-flavoured Bertie Botts beans, and she knew she'd find a box or two in his rucksack. Merlin, he smelled good, too, like the Devonshire breeze and the Potters' house. He smelled like love. She resisted the urge to bury her face in his hair and inhale. _Later_ , she promised herself.

It had been a week since their trip to the theatre for her seventeenth birthday. Lily and James had joined them to see _A Midsummer's Night Dream_ in London's West End. The next day, James' mother took ill again, so the boys stayed close to home, just in case she worsened. It was longest she'd gone without seeing him since they'd become friends, and while a week wasn't that long in the grand scheme of things, when it came to Sirius, it felt like seven years instead of seven days.

"Galloping gargoyles, get off each other, you crazy kids!" a familiar voice rang out. "There's families about!" Annabelle and Sirius looked to see a smirking Johnny B. approaching. "Nah, I'm kidding. I did the same thing outside the platform just now." A wistful sigh escaped him, his cheeks turning pink.

"Matthew was here?" Annabelle asked as she greeted him with a hug. "I would've come out to say hello!"

Johnny B.'s face fell. "He was in a hurry. Heading to the travel agent to buy a ticket to Sydney. Flies out at the end of the month."

"This month?" she asked. "That's so soon."

"He'd originally planned to leave in August," said Johnny B. "But he kept inventing reasons to wait. You're welcome to come with me to see him off."

"Of course I will. How long will he be there?"

"Five months, then he's going to Spain." He seemed to sense Annabelle's sympathy and said, "Don't worry, I'll find a way to visit him."

"In Australia? I don't think I'd want to apparate that far."

"Neither do I," said Johnny B. "But I'm going to have to. He almost called the whole thing off, but I told him he'd regret it if he didn't go, and that he'd resent me someday for being the reason he missed an opportunity of a lifetime. I promised him I'd visit, and I can't pay to fly there in an aeroplane like a muggle, so apparition it is."

"There's a wizarding village outside of Sydney," Sirius said. "Stonehollow. Maybe you could floo it."

Annabelle shuddered. "That would be the longest, most convoluted floo journey ever."

"I'll figure something out," said Johnny B. with a shrug.

A scream erupted from the crowd and they jerked their heads to see Claire Shaw running to Remus, who had just stepped through the barrier. He caught her as she leapt into his arms.

Johnny B. closed his eyes tightly, and in his best Mick Jagger impersonation, sang, _"Coz, wiiiiild horses…couldn't drag me away…"_

Annabelle and Sirius snorted with laughter. Apparently, Claire and Remus didn't get to see each other as often as they would have liked over the summer. Claire's parents were old fashioned and didn't want her going out too often with Remus until they knew him better, and Remus' father had been less than supportive of his son pursuing a relationship when he had his toughest year of school ahead of him, and his future depended on him doing well academically. A girlfriend was a distraction, he'd told him. And with the sickness before and after the full moons, and his father watching him like a hawk, it had been hard to sneak away to see Claire.

"He looks happy," Annabelle said. "Look at that smile."

"Probably feels like a freed convict," said Sirius.

They made their way into the train, leaving the head girl and head boy to their duties. Alice entered the compartment where Sirius, Annabelle, and Johnny B. sat, wearing a black beret perched at an angle and big black sunglasses that hid half her face. She'd spent the last two weeks of the summer holiday in Paris with Frank.

"Bonjour, mes amis," she said. Annabelle almost crushed her with a hug, then Johnny B. did the same. Sirius was a bit more reserved in his greeting, giving her a polite peck on the cheek.

She did a posh little strut to the seat and sat down across from Annabelle. "Vous m'avez manqués, et vous?"

"Bien sûr," replied Sirius. He was the only one who had a clue what Alice was saying. "Comment était Paris?"

"C'était incroyable."

"Je suis heureux d'entendre ça."

"Now in English, you pretentious pureblood snobs," said Johnny B.

Alice elbowed him in the arm. "I just said I missed you all, and wondered if you missed me. And Sirius said you did, indeed, miss me, and asked me how Paris was. I said wonderful."

"I can't help it, but I'm so envious," sighed Annabelle. "I must see it for myself someday."

"Someday?" said Sirius. "We can go any time you want. Just say the word."

He squeezed her hand, and her heart did a little flip at the thought of wandering the streets of Paris with Sirius, stopping for crepes and café au laits, perusing the Louvre, looking out over the sparkling city at night from the top of Eiffel Tower… it was a heavenly daydream.

"You would love it, Annie," said Alice. "And I can tell you all the best places to go."

The door to their compartment burst open, and Peter barrelled in, falling to the floor. "Hurry! Someone lock the door!" he screamed. "They're after me!"

Alice pulled out her wand, said " _Colloportus,"_ and the locked clicked. They were about to laugh at Peter's theatrics when Amycus Carrow appeared outside the door. He rattled the metal latch, but found himself thwarted, not to mention outnumbered, and pounded a fist on the window. His grimace was so hate-filled that Annabelle held her breath, momentarily paralysed. Wands were drawn, and Sirius leapt from his seat, his wand pointed directly at the offending Slytherin, but Amycus bolted back in the direction from which he'd come.

"Scumbag," Sirius muttered, and collapsed onto the seat. He gave Peter a small kick. "What the hell was that all about?"

"He called me needle-dick, so I told him to piss off."

"That's all? He chased you for that?"

"What? You think I'm lying – that I said something worse? I'm not looking to get on his bad side. He's mental!"

"That's true," said Annabelle. "He's a lunatic."

"Next time, don't say anything," Alice said, pulling her sunglasses off. "It's not worth getting tangled up in a bloody war with him and his mates."

"So I'm just supposed to let him call me needle-dick?"

"Why do you care?" asked Johnny B. "It's not like he's actually seen your dick."

Sirius choked out a laugh, and Peter glared at him. "What's so funny?"

He cleared his throat in an attempt to stop laughing. "Nothing."

Peter got up from the floor and plunked down next to Annabelle. He opened his rucksack and pulled out a wizarding comic book called "The Mage's Revenge" wherein the drawings actually moved. Another person appeared outside the door, and they instinctively drew their wands again, except for Peter who was already engrossed in his reading.

"Unlock the bleeding door, you wankers," Caradoc said through the glass.

"Sorry," said Johnny B. " _Alohamora."_ The locked clicked open. "We thought you were Amycus Carrow."

Caradoc dropped down next to him. "Am I that ugly?"

"Not even close," said Alice.

In fact, Caradoc was rather cute with is his shaggy, golden brown hair and a scattering of freckles across his nose. Alice had a crush on him during second year, but then he'd burped in her face in the corridor and she quickly lost interest.

"Why, thank you, Alice. You're not that ugly, either."

She gave a slight eye-roll, and slid her glasses into her pocket book.

Without James and Lily around, the journey to Hogwarts felt different than previous years. Strange, even. They popped in every now and then to say hello and to rest for a bit, but inevitably a problem would arise or some inept prefect would ask for help and they'd be off again. Remus took turns with the other prefects patrolling occasionally, and came by once to say hello, but he spent most of the trip tucked away with Claire.

As for Fairfax, he wasn't there at all, having taken the Hogwarts Express for the last time in June. He was currently a reserve Beater for the Kenmare Kestrals. A scout had apparently been at the last Quidditch match - the one against Slytherin - and contacted him just before he was about to accept a job at The Green Banshee in Hogsmeade. His relationship with Mary MacDonald was still a real thing, which astounded everyone. It was his longest relationship, by far.

Annabelle felt a wave of nostalgia roll over her. The year had just begun, but life as they knew it was already changing. She rested her head on Sirius' shoulder, and told herself that change wasn't always bad, even if it felt that way at first. As long as she had her friends, she could face whatever was to come.

Later that evening, after announcements and the Sorting Ceremony were finished, Lily and James joined their friends at the table.

"I'm knackered," said James. "This head boy stuff is crap."

"You've only been at it a day, you lazy sod," said Caradoc. "Give it chance."

"Right," said Alice. "You're a role model now."

Sirius, Remus, and Peter snickered under their breath, and James grinned in spite of himself.

"The first day is always mad," said Lily. "Things will settle down soon. And don't let him fool you," she said to the others. "He's doing an excellent job."

"Just think," said Annabelle. "Now you can take a bath in that enormous tub."

"I could have done that last year," said James. "Quidditch captains are allowed to use it. The few times I tried, someone was always in there."

"We should have a party in there," said Johnny B. "We could all fit with room to spare."

"Not a bad idea," said James.

"Bad idea," said Lily. "We can't go breaking rules just because we have privileges now. That would be wrong. Remus never abused his power as prefect, did you Remus?"

"No," he said. "I leave the abuse of power to the Slytherins."

"Heh." James glared across the Great Hall. "That's going to change this year. Their reign of terror is over, starting now."

"Hear hear!" said Sirius, raising his glass of pumpkin juice. "To ending their reign of terror, once and for all. I'll help."

Caradoc raised his glass as well. "Count me in."

The boys reached across Lily and Annabelle and clinked glasses, but the girls exchanged wary looks.

"Don't mess them about too much," said Annabelle. "You know they're dangerous."

"Dangerously stupid," said James, and Sirius burst out laughing.

Annabelle glanced at Sirius, her chest tightening. She hoped they were just running their mouths and showing off, otherwise it was going to be a long, disastrous year.

"Count me in, but only if they strike first," said Johnny B. "I'm a pacifist."

"So am I," said Peter. "A pacifist. A peace-monger."

Everyone knew Peter wasn't so much a pacifist as he was frightened, but instead of embarrassing him like they might have done when they were younger, James and Sirius bit their tongues. Annabelle knew it was killing them not to make a joke at his expense, but for once, maturity won. Maybe they could be mature in their dealings with the Slytherins, as well, and no one would get hurt. James and Sirius were skilled duellists, easily able to hold their own against a fellow student, but they possessed one thing Amycus Carrow and his band of monsters seemed to lack: consciences. Annabelle glanced across at Amycus Carrow and remembered his face on the train; it had been blind with rage. His eyes met hers, and she looked away, her stomach giving a painful lurch.

"Let's all be pacifists," Lily said.

"Sure," said James. "Peace, love, and liquorice snaps."

But from the look he shot Sirius, it was clear he didn't mean it.


	2. Wunderkind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Canon says Sirius never met Andromeda's family, but this is fan fiction, so guess what? ;)

The first week of classes came and went, and the seventh-years found themselves bogged down with assignments already. Sirius and Annabelle decided to start off the year right, and on Friday evening, they went to the library to work on their Defence Against the Dark Arts assignment. The new professor was a young man named Angus MacMillan, and in one week of school he'd already proven himself a far better instructor than Professor Jaeger ever was, and a much saner one at that.

"You know what's weird?" Sirius said, putting his quill down and stretching his arms above his head.

"What?"

"That in some small way, I'm related to at least half this school. Professor MacMillan is a descendant of my grandmother's family. Lucky for him, he comes from the better part."

"At least you're not related to me," said Annabelle, nudging his foot with hers under the table.

Sirius nudged her back. "And for that, I am grateful. Not that most of them are first cousins or anything. I'm talking about distant relations. Like Alice and Frank's families, and the vast majority of Slytherin House. Even James and I have a distant connection."

"Really? I didn't know that."

"Yep. Some descendant of his granddad's third cousin or something like that married my great aunt. Not that he counts as a relative, really, but every Pureblood will find places where their family trees intersect. Nasty, yeah?"

Annabelle thought about it for a moment, then shrugged. "Maybe the close family marriages are nasty, sure, but like you said, some of the connections are so distant they don't exactly count."

"Yeah, I guess so. I'd still rather not be a part of it." He let out a dry chuckle. "Then again, I'm not actually part of it anymore. Blood traitors are removed from the Black family tree, and treated like they never existed in the first place. To them, I was never even born."

"Burning holes in a tapestry doesn't erase a person," said Annabelle. "No matter how much they want to pretend it does."

Sirius set his elbow on the table and rested his head in his palm. "I wrote to my Uncle Alphard over the summer. He wrote me back last week."

"What did he say?"

"It was short, and practically illegible – his handwriting is horrid. But he mentioned at least twice, in big letters, that I was a ' _genetic anomaly,'_ and he called me and the handful of others that have been blasted from the tree over the centuries ' _the only lights in a sea of darkness_.' He said if I didn't believe him, to ' _hang that scraggy old tapestry from a window and see for myself. The holes are what lets the light in.'_ "

The image took shape in Annabelle's mind – the light forcing its way through the ragged places Sirius' mother and her ancestors had blasted away. She felt a lump rise in her throat.

"I rather like this uncle of yours. Maybe you could visit with him more often."

"He's a bit of a recluse – not keen on visitors. He also mentioned that he hasn't been well, which Andromeda already told me, but he was glad we communicated again. He said he was proud of me."

Annabelle could see that his uncle's kind words were a comfort to Sirius. If only the man was more open to visitors, Sirius could have another family connection besides Andromeda that wouldn't expect him to change. One more person to confirm for him that he wasn't alone.

"See?" she said. "You didn't just spring from a cesspool of hate. There's several of you that share similar attitudes, set apart by your consciences."

Sirius chuckled. "So you're saying I'm not the only freak of nature the Black family ever produced?"

"Exactly, except I prefer to think of you as a wunderkind, not a freak of nature. As your uncle pointed out, you're in good company."

He reached for her hand, but remained contemplative.

"I know you feel adrift," she said, lacing her fingers with his, "like you no longer have roots, but what you have is stronger than that old tapestry. In fact, I'm going to draw you a new family tree, with everyone who loves you on it. And you'll always be a part of it, no matter what."

He smiled as he rubbed his thumb over her fingers. He seemed far away, as he always did when the subject of his family came up.

"What are you thinking?" she asked.

He blew out a breath and an errant lock of hair lifted from his brow. "I think I should pay my cousin Andromeda a visit. She's asked me twice now, and I no longer have a reason to stay away, so…"

"Yes! Do it! I think you'll feel so much better if you do."

"Will you come with me?"

"Of course," said Annabelle. "If she doesn't mind."

"She won't mind. I told her about you in my letter to her, and she asked me to bring you along."

"Just say when."

Sirius shut his book. "I'll write to her now, and hopefully, we'll have our answer soon."

Annabelle felt a twinge of excitement at the prospect of meeting a member of Sirius' family. It made her sad that he'd never have the experience of introducing his girlfriend to his parents, not to mention how much she longed to know at least one person that shared his heritage – preferably one that didn't want her tortured and destroyed. From the way he spoke of Andromeda, it was possible she could fill that particular void for both of them. Andromeda wouldn't judge him or turn him away, because that would be the same as judging herself. Annabelle hoped that reuniting with his cousin would be another step toward healing the wounds his parents had inflicted on him, because if anyone understood what Sirius had been through his entire life, it was Andy.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Golden September light filled the Great Hall the next morning as the students sat down to breakfast. The owls flew in with the post, and Lily, who hadn't been expecting a letter, was pouring syrup on a pancake when one landed in her lap, narrowly missing her plate. Sirius also received a letter, which had dropped straight into his hand. Andromeda had wasted no time replying.

He opened the envelope slowly, suddenly unsure about spending time with an actual family member, even if she was one of the few "good ones." The memories of his past still haunted him, sometimes brutally, and seeing Andromeda might dredge up feelings he'd been trying so hard to move beyond. Annabelle read it along with him, her smile growing with every sentence.

_**Dearest cousin Sirius,** _

_**Words can't express how thrilled I am that I'll get to see you again after all these years. You must come as soon as possible, the coming weekend perhaps? I will sort it all out with Dumbledore so all you'll have to do is hop into the floo. Nymphadora is eager to meet her cousin, and I'm quite excited to meet your Annabelle. Please, if you don't mind, let me know straight away so that I can prepare for your visit. I'm so happy I think I might burst!** _

_**With love,** _

_**Andromeda** _

Sirius stared at the letter a moment longer, then folded it and slipped it into the envelope.

"I guess we're going to see Andromeda next weekend," he said.

Annabelle gave his arm a pat. "It's going to be grand. You'll see."

Sirius exhaled heavily. His stomach knotted, and he set his napkin on the table. He was no longer hungry.

At the same time Sirius and Annabelle were reading Andromeda's letter, Lily opened her own letter, her mother's dainty script gracing the page, and read it as she took a sip of tea.

_**Dear Lily,** _

_**We've just been given the most wonderful news! Your sister has become engaged to her Vernon. Apparently, they were at his mother's home in Little Whinging when he got down on one knee and proposed! Isn't that lovely? You must send her a note of congratulation! Don't forget to have it delivered here first. You know how your sister feels about owls.** _

_**Also, she plans to tell Vernon soon about your special talents, and I suspect he'll be as impressed as we are. We're going to be having a little celebratory get-together in a fortnight. I've already written the headmaster, asking if you may be relieved of your head girl duties for the evening so that you might join us.** _

_**Please come, Lily-dear. It would mean a lot to your father and me, as well as Petunia. My goodness, how quickly you're both growing up.** _

_**Love,** _

_**Mum  
** _

Lily shoved the letter back into the envelope and violently chopped off a piece of pancake with her fork, then stuffed it into her mouth, her eyes filling with tears. Everyone else glanced warily at each other, unsure if she was angry or sad, or both.

"What did the letter say?" asked Alice.

Lily finished chewing, and squeezed her eyes shut as she swallowed. "My sister got engaged."

"Uh oh," said Annabelle.

"Why is this bad news?" asked Peter.

"Oh, I don't know," Lily replied with a shrug. "Maybe because her fiancé is an ignorant, shallow, bore of man?"

"Maybe she fancies ignorant, shallow, bores," said Peter. "Why should you care?"

James kicked him hard under the table.

"What?" asked Peter, bending to rub his leg. "It's an honest question."

Before James could respond, Lily said, "Because, the Petunia I knew would never marry someone like that. She wanted to marry Paul McCartney, last time I checked. And Vernon Dursley is no Paul McCartney."

"So? People change," said Peter. "It happens all the time."

James dropped his fork onto the table and raked a hand through his hair. "Pete, you don't know the man, and you don't know Lily's sister. Leave it alone."

"It's all right," said Lily. "I suppose people can change, but I just can't believe she's happy with him. Not that I know him all that well. She never talks to me about him, and I've only met him twice. But he was so… not right for her."

"Do you think if she'd been more open about him with you, you'd feel differently?" asked Alice.

"I don't know. He'd still be _him_ , so probably not. But what can I do? She barely speaks to me anymore. I'm the last person she'd listen to."

Deep down, Lily knew if she disparaged Vernon to Petunia, that Petunia would cut her off completely. Even though their relationship was fraught with tension and years of bitterness, she always held out hope that with time and maturity, they would overcome their differences, and that maybe, one day, Petunia would have a change of heart.

"Does he mind that you're a witch?" asked Caradoc.

"He doesn't know yet. My mum says she's going to tell him soon."

"Maybe he'll break up with her when she tells him," said Caradoc. "He'll think she's gone mad."

"Then she'll just have one more reason to loathe my existence. I'll be the reason her cuddly crumpet left her."

Everyone shuddered at the mention of Petunia's pet name for Vernon, including Lily, as she recalled how sugary sweet Petunia was whenever she spoke to him. Maybe she truly had changed. Maybe she did love him.

"I've got to meet this chap," said James.

Lily's eyebrows shot up in hope. "Really? You would want to?"

"Sure, why not? I've never known any ignorant, shallow, boring muggles personally. Might be fascinating. Maybe he and I will get on well, and your sister would have to stop treating you like a massive, reeking pile of manticore dung."

Sirius, Remus, and Caradoc started laughing, but Alice put a napkin over her mouth like she was going to be sick.

"Fuck's sake," said Johnny B., who was trying not to laugh. "You're going to make Alice honk all over the table, talking like that. Proper table manners, lads, please."

James joined in with the laughter, but Lily felt weary, like she'd lost any chance of reconciling with Petunia. Her entire childhood felt like a lie; all those years, side by side with her sister, just to grow up and have it negated. She never would have guessed Petunia had it in her to reject her own little sister, and it hurt like crazy.

"It wouldn't matter," she said, staring down at her now soggy pancake. "She'd still hate me."

"She doesn't hate you, Lil," said Annabelle. "She's just lost. It may take a while, but she'll come to her senses."

"My mum wants me to go home for a celebratory dinner," Lily said. "Is it awful that I don't want to go? I mean, I'll go, but…" She sighed miserably.

"It's okay," said James. "Because I'm going with you. Your mum and dad won't mind, will they?"

"No, I don't think so, but James, she's not nice to my friends - Annie can vouch for that. I can't put you through it."

"I want to be put through it. All right? I can take it, I promise."

Lily's brows furrowed as she considered it. If Petunia was rude to James, Lily would no longer be civil. But, she didn't want to go alone, and she shouldn't have to keep her own boyfriend hidden away because of her sister's judgemental attitude.

"If you're sure-"

"Good, it's settled." He picked up his fork and dug into his tower of pancakes.

Lily kissed his cheek, and whispered, "Thank you."

James wiped his hands on his napkin and hugged her. "You're welcome," he replied, his words garbled by pancake. "I'd do anything for you."

Annabelle was relieved James had volunteered to go with her, even though she'd expected him to. Lily shouldn't have to deal with such an uncomfortable situation alone, and while Annabelle and Alice would have both offered to go along, James was the best choice to accompany her, because he wouldn't let Petunia get under his skin. Or so Annabelle hoped.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The weekends always felt too far away, due to the intense classes and the obscene amount of work that came with seventh year. Lily looked forward to her walk-throughs of the castle with James, since it was an excuse to take a break from revision and writing until her fingers blistered. They had already finished their usual route, but decided to keep strolling, not wanting to face the piles of parchment and textbooks that awaited them in Gryffindor Tower.

"So this is the infamous bathroom," said James, motioning toward the door in front of them.

Lily had never thought much about the Prefects Bathroom, until she suddenly had access to it herself. Now she was curious.

"Should we knock first?"

"If someone's in there, it locks automatically. Special charm to prevent perverts from getting a free show."

"That answers my other question."

James said the password, "Rubber Duck," and turned the knob to find it locked.

"See? Told you it's never open."

"Whoever's in there can't stay in there forever," she said. "We could always wait a bit."

"Why? Did you have something in mind?" He wagged his eyebrows up and down, a roguish grin on his lips.

She stared at him like he was out of his mind. "James, can you imagine if anyone found out? The head boy and head girl, caught together in the bath?"

"So? We need to get clean just like everyone else."

"You know what I mean. Come on, I will see it later."

They turned to walk away, James feeling a bit disappointed that his suggestion was met with such opposition, and Lily thinking that his suggestion actually sounded rather appealing, if only it wasn't a massive transgression, and something that she, as head girl, would never in a million years consider.

He took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it gently. She wished they weren't on duty, because she had the sudden urge to press herself against him and bury her face in his skin. She almost told him so, but he would most certainly find a way to make that happen, and they most certainly could not risk getting caught.

As though he read her mind, he said, "I wish I could get you alone right now."

"So do I," she blurted out, and his grin doubled in size. "But, honestly, we can't take any chances. Head girls and head boys are supposed to set an example, not get caught in broom cupboards or bathrooms together."

"There are other places we can go, besides broom cupboards and bathrooms. Places I'm pretty sure only the lads and I know about."

"And risk them accidentally walking in on us?"

"I could tell them to stay away."

"And they would know why, and I don't want them knowing our personal business."

James sighed in frustration. "We could always rent a room at The Leaky Cauldron."

"And if someone recognised us?"

"So, what you're saying is, we can't kiss or lay a finger on each other until school is finished, yeah?"

She gave a quick glance about, then yanked him into an alcove behind a suit of armour. After taking one last peek into the corridor, she pulled his face to hers and kissed him hard on the lips, eliciting a small whimper from him as he melted into her.

After a few minutes of fervently trying to get their fill of each other, Lily grew nervous. She hated to stop, but what if a professor caught them? Or some nosy student with a mouth for gossip? What if Dumbledore himself made an appearance?

"James," she said, pulling back, her arms still around his neck. "We're taking a chance. I shouldn't have…" She shook her head. "I shouldn't have done that."

"God, but I'm glad you did," he breathed, resting his forehead against hers.

"Really? Because I need you to know," she whispered, taking his face in her hands, "I… want you… just as much as you want me. I've been thinking about it… a lot."

His eyes widened. " _A lot_ a lot?"

She nodded slowly.

"Lily…" he groaned, burying his face in her neck. "I'm going to need a moment to recover… if you catch my drift." He let go of her, and placed a hand on the wall to steady himself. "Thinking of Madam Wigworthy in the nude usually takes care of it," he said, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Be nice, James," said Lily. "She's married, you know. I'm sure her husband is perfectly content to look at her in the nude."

James shuddered. "Good for Mr. Wigworthy. I bet you wouldn't want to see him naked either."

"I'll be older someday, as will you. Will you be turned off by me, then?"

James started laughing. "That's impossible. I will never be turned off by you, no matter what. But, maybe you'll be turned off by me."

"That's not how it works. If you love someone, you'll always think they're beautiful. At every age."

"I know I'll always think you're beautiful," he said softly, running a thumb over her cheek. "Even when we're ninety."

She smiled and kissed him again, then took his hand. "Good response."

They eased out from behind the armour and headed toward the seventh floor.

"Next time," said James, "instead of old Wiggy, I'll picture the dead rabbit we saw in the forest once. It was half eaten and covered with maggots. Peter barfed, in his rat form-"

Lily covered her ears, and James laughed so hard he staggered slightly as he walked.

"Merlin, Lily, what would I do without you?"

She linked her arm with his, and nuzzled her head against his shoulder.

"If you promise you won't talk about naked faculty members and maggot-covered rabbits again, you won't ever have to find out."

He smiled at her and replied, "I'd say you've got yourself a deal."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

At long last, Saturday arrived again, and after lunch, Sirius and Annabelle entered the headmaster's office. Andromeda had wanted them to come for dinner, but Sirius hadn't felt comfortable with that. He didn't want to sit through a meal if things got awkward, so he'd written her that he had a lot of work to do that evening. Annabelle had told him that Andy would see right through that excuse, but she'd written back that any time was fine with her, that she just wanted so much to see him again. So they settled on an afternoon visit.

"Give Andromeda and Ted my warmest regards," said Dumbledore before they stepped into the fireplace. "And give these to Nymphadora."

He handed them a box of mini-chocoballs.

"We will, sir," said Sirius.

When they arrived at the Tonks residence, they were greeted by a little girl in pink bell bottoms and a pink and white striped top. Her round little belly poked out, and her upper lip was coated with what appeared to be a milk moustache. She was standing directly in front of the fireplace as though she'd been waiting for them, and her eyes went big as saucers.

"They're here! Mummy! Mummy! Come see!" She started skipping about. "Mummy! They're heeere!"

Sirius and Annabelle waited, smiling at the excited child whose hair had gone from brown to pink in under a second. A tall young woman appeared in a doorway to their left, and she gasped when she saw Sirius, her face overcome with emotion. She made her way directly to him and embraced him, a sob escaping her. Annabelle was awed by her resemblance to Sirius; she had the same grey eyes, the same high cheekbones, and the same lustrous hair, only hers was a shade or two lighter.

"My goodness, Sirius, how you've grown!" she said, her voice faltering. "You're no longer that little boy who used to hang onto my arm while I told you stories about knights and dragons!"

"I still remember those stories," he said.

"Mummy, why are you crying?" the child asked.

"I'm just so happy to see your cousin," she said as she let him go. "It's been far too long."

"Andy, this is Annie," he said, motioning towards Annabelle. "Annie, Andy."

Andromeda wiped her cheeks on her sleeves, then pulled Annabelle into a hug. "Thank you. Thank you so much for coming," she said in her ear.

"Thank you for having us," said Annabelle.

Andromeda relinquished her, sniffled, and put a hand on the child's shoulder. "And this is Nymphadora."

"I'm four and a half," Nymphadora proudly informed them.

"You'll be all grown soon," said Sirius. He held out the box of chocoballs. "These are from Professor Dumbledore."

Her eyes lit up and she took it from his hand, grinning. "Thank you. Can I eat them, Mummy?"

"You may have one now," said Andromeda. She took the box and opened it, and handed one chocoball to Nymphadora. The little girl tossed it into her mouth.

"Would either of you like one before I hide these?" asked Andromeda, and Sirius and Annabelle politely declined. "She'll have the whole box gone in one sitting and then she'll be bouncing off the walls."

Nymphadora starting jumping around, weaving between Sirius and Annabelle. "Look at me, I'm Peter Rabbit. Bounce, bounce, bounce."

Suddenly, she tripped over her own foot and fell, barely missing the corner of the coffee table.

"Calm down, darling," Andromeda said. "Let's have a day without an injury, please." She turned to Sirius and Annabelle. "Make yourselves at home. I'm just going to pop into the kitchen to put the kettle on. Ted had to go into work for a few hours, but he should be back soon I hope." She stopped at the door, and added in a hushed voice, "Oh, and just so you're aware, we try to limit the amount of magic we use in front of her – she's so impressionable and we fear she'll blow up the house if she learns too much, too soon."

She chuckled, but really, she was politely asking that they keep their wands stowed away. Some witches and wizards believed that overexposure to magic was dangerous for a young child, and felt that responsible wizarding parents did not to teach their children even the most innocent of charms before they were old enough to understand their powers.

Sirius and Annabelle sat down on the sofa, and Nymphadora stood and stared at them, a little finger digging in her nose as though she was contemplating something important. Her hair suddenly changed to lavender, the same shade as Annabelle's blouse. Annabelle looked round the sitting room to avoid her gaze. The room was spotless, not a speck of dust to be seen anywhere, but it still felt like a home - like a family lived there. There was a basket of toys in one corner, and photographs in frames along the mantel, some moving, some stationary. Most of them included a young man Annabelle assumed to be Andromeda's husband, and some featured people she guessed were members of his family.

Nymphadora had been watching Annabelle intently, and pointed to one of the photographs. "That's my daddy," she said to her. "He's at work." Then she began pointing at every picture, galloping a little as she spoke. "And that's me, and that's my mummy, and that's my daddy, and that's my granny, and my mummy, and me-"

"Now, now, darling, settle down," Andromeda said, returning from the kitchen. "I think they understand." She sent a pleading smile to Sirius and Annabelle as she sat down in a chair by the sofa. "What can I say? She's a spirited child with a mind of her own."

"That's better than the alternative," said Sirius curtly.

Andromeda paused, clearly surprised by his tone. "Agreed," she said. She looked down at her hand and twisted the ring on her finger.

An awkward silence filled the room, and Nymphadora began rocking side to side, whispering the words to "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star."

Sirius was tense, rigid almost, and Annabelle realised just how much he was struggling. She wished he would let his guard down, but, even though Andromeda was on his side and understood first-hand what he'd gone through, she was still a vivid reminder of the past, and seeing her again couldn't be easy for him. After all, he hadn't spoken to her since he just before he entered Hogwarts, when she was disowned, and there was a lot that needed to be acknowledged between them. Pretending everything was fine would help no one. Maybe if they had a few moments to themselves, without an audience, they could reconnect.

"Would you like a few moments to talk?" Annabelle asked. "I'm sure Nymphadora and I can find something to entertain us."

"Let's go outside and I can show you my tree house!" the little girl said. "You have to climb a ladder to get inside, and be careful or you'll fall."

Andromeda raised her eyebrows, tears still glistening in her eyes. "Are you sure? I don't want you to feel-"

"It's no trouble," said Annabelle, standing up. "I must see this tree house – it sounds amazing."

Annabelle looked at Sirius to make sure he didn't mind, and he nodded his head. She glanced at him one more time as Nymphadora pulled her along, and he smiled weakly back at her.

"Put on your jacket, darling," Andromeda told her daughter. "And be polite."

"S'all right, Mummy. I've got manners!"

On the way to the back door, they passed through the kitchen. It was also spotless, except for the refrigerator, which was covered with paintings of stick figures and teddy bears. Annabelle's heart warmed at the thought of this sweet little family, so profound to her because of their normalness. It made her nostalgic for her Granddad, and the place she once called home.

The garden was chilly, and Annabelle shivered, not having anticipated going outside, but it was well worth it when she saw the tree house. Multi-storied, and painted purple, pink, and turquoise, its windows paned with what looked like real glass, it had clearly been built by magical hands. Annabelle wondered what charms had been placed on it – probably dozens to prevent falls, glass from breaking, and wild animals or bees from making their nests inside. She imagined it was the safest tree house on the planet.

"My daddy builded it for me! Hold on tight when you climb or you'll fall and get a ouchie."

"Oh dear, I don't want to get an ouchie. I'll be very careful."

Climbing a ladder in a skirt wasn't ideal, but Annabelle made it without any wardrobe malfunctions. In the first level, there were silver-sequined cushions of varying sizes along the golden glittery floor, and on the hot pink wall hung a blackboard with coloured chalk in a tray below. The room was lit by a jar of what appeared to be fireflies, but Annabelle knew they weren't real, because they illuminated the entire space in a warm glow.

Nymphadora flung herself down on a sparkly cushion. "Sit down," she commanded, and smiled when Annabelle did as she was told.

"You want to play school? I'll be the teacher."

"Okay, let's play."

The game of school started off innocently enough, with Nymphadora drawing crooked letters on the board and calling on Annabelle to identify them, but soon she started acting silly, making scribbles and shouting at Annabelle to sit in the corner when she couldn't guess the right answer.

"How about you show me the rest of the house?" Annabelle suggested, and just like that, the little girl tugged Annabelle by the hand toward the next ladder, and they made their way to the floor above.

"This is my kitchen."

The room was light blue with polka-dots in every colour of the rainbow scattered over the walls, ceiling, and floor. There was a fancy toy kitchen against the wall, complete with a sink, oven, and refrigerator, as well as a little table with four tiny chairs and a tea set spread out on it. One wall was devoted to moving cartoons of fruits and vegetables, each with their names appearing beside their smiling faces.

"The sink really works, see?"

Nymphadora turned the tap, and sure enough, water came out. Annabelle was delighted, but not surprised.

They sat down at the tiny table and pretended to have a tea party. The child filled the cups with water, but soon grew restless again and began stirring the water so fast that it all flew out and onto the table.

"This is the most amazing tree house I have ever seen," Annabelle said, shielding herself with her hands and trying to distract Nymphadora from her mission to make a watery mess everywhere. "What a lucky girl you are."

Her face lit up in a toothy smile. "I'm Daddy's princess and he said it's my tree palace. Come to the top floor!"

The top floor was the best by far, in Annabelle's opinion. Instead of a room, Annabelle felt like she'd stepped into outerspace. It was dark except for the vivid night sky moving all around them, like a miniature planetarium. There were velvet floor mats in the centre of the room, and Nymphadora pulled Annabelle onto them.

"Lie down," she said. They made themselves comfortable and Nymphadora pointed to the ceiling. "Mummy says those are cons-ta-lay-shuns. And there's shooting stars, and comets, and meteors, and planets, and moons. Mummy says her family is up there. Sometimes she cries when she looks up at them. Can you see them? Mummy says you can see them in the sky at night."

Annabelle suddenly found it difficult to swallow past the lump forming in her throat. "Is that so?"

"Uh-huh."

"I'll have to start looking at the sky more often, then."

There was a brief silence as they watched the enchanted universe floating all around them. Faint lullabies were playing from somewhere, or more like everywhere, and Annabelle felt like she was in a dreamland.

Suddenly, Nymphadora blurted out, "My daddy farts in his sleep sometimes. It goes BA-ROOOM!"

Annabelle choked with laughter. "Well, I reckon he can't help it."

"Mummy and I call him Stinky Bum."

They both cracked up over that, and then to drive her point home, Nymphadora pressed her mouth to her arm and blew hard, imitating the noise. Annabelle laughed harder, and while she knew she shouldn't, because it only encouraged the child, she couldn't help it.

"Nymphadora! Annie!" Andromeda's voice called. "Come have some tea!"

Nymphadora turned to Annabelle, her eyes wide. "Biscuits," she whispered and scrambled to her feet, stumbling once on her way to the ladder.

Once inside, Annabelle joined Sirius on the sofa. Both his and Andromeda's eyes were red, and Annabelle's heart ached for them. But they seemed more relaxed around each other than before she'd gone outside, like two old friends.

"Are you all right?" Annabelle whispered to him after Andromeda went to the loo to wash her daughter's hands.

He put his arm around her shoulders. "I am," he said, and kissed her on the temple. "She's been hurting, as well. Her sisters no longer speak to her. They were close when they were young – much closer than I was with Regulus. I just wish I'd come to see her sooner."

"Better late than never."

"True. And thank you for taking Nymphadora outside so we could talk."

"You're welcome. It was worth it to see that tree house."

"Yeah? How was it?"

"Amazing. Magical, but not over-the-top."

He chuckled softly. "I have no doubt. Andy said Ted plans to add to it when she gets a bit older. It's charmed so the neighbours can't see it."

"They strike me as a loving family. Even in pictures," said Annabelle as she eyed the frames scattered on every surface and wall. "They just look so happy together."

"No traces of the Black family darkness here," he said. "I needed this."

She gave his leg a squeeze. "You both did."

Ted came home from work just as they were finishing their tea, and Nymphadora went crazy, skipping about in front of the fireplace, and screaming, "Daddy's home! Hello, Daddy!"

"Dora!" he said, hoisting her up. "How's my princess this afternoon?"

"I'm grand! Cousin Sirius is here. And Annie saw my tree house!"

"How lovely," he said. His wife stood up and they shared a quick kiss.

"Yucky," said Nymphadora, and covered her eyes.

Ted came round the sofa, his daughter still perched on his hip, and shook Sirius' hand, then Annabelle's. "I'm Ted, by the way. Sorry I couldn't get here sooner, but we had an emergency meeting at the radio station." He picked up a biscuit and popped it into his mouth. "Dromeda's been so eager for you to come over. Dora's always asking who Mummy's relatives are, but I don't have the heart to tell her they're mostly-" and he mouthed the word "loony." Then, seeming to realise he might have crossed a line, he added, "No offence, Sirius."

Sirius gave a small wave of the hand. "None taken, I assure you."

Ted observed Sirius for a moment, glanced at Andy, and looked at Sirius again. "There's definitely a resemblance there," he said, shaking his head. "Wow."

Sirius smiled at his cousin, and she smiled back at him, her expression wistful, but happy just the same. Then she rose from her seat and began cleaning up.

"Let me," said Annabelle, and she set her cup and saucer on the tray.

"No, you mustn't," said Andy.

Annabelle collected the rest of the cups and picked up the tray. "Please, I'd like to help."

Sirius moved to take the tray, but Annabelle shook her head. She wanted to make a good impression on Sirius' family.

"All right," said Andy, smiling good-naturedly. "If you insist."

As she followed Andy into the kitchen, she could hear the Quidditch talk beginning in the sitting room.

"Sounds like we left at a good time," Andy said, taking the tray from Annabelle and setting the cups in the sink. "Oh wait, I'm sorry. You play Quidditch. Do you want to go chat with them?"

Annabelle smirked. "Absolutely not. I don't mind playing, but I don't follow professional Quidditch."

"Neither do I. Puts me right to sleep. But we'll be attending one of your matches, you can count on it."

"That would mean a lot to us," said Annabelle. Remembering the no magic rule, she pushed up her sleeves to help wash the cups, but Andy insisted on doing them herself.

"So," Andy said, her voice taking on a sly tone. "How long have you and Sirius been an item?"

"Almost a year."

"A year? That's a long time for someone your age." She stopped washing for moment. "Merlin, listen to me. Ted and I were the same age as you when we started dating."

Annabelle smiled, not sure what to say, but Andy quickly filled the silence.

"When he told me your name was O'Neill, I was instantly terrified, for both of you," she said. "But I reminded myself he was disowned, so they won't hurt you now." She added with a bitter chuckle, "They won't even acknowledge your existence."

It was evident that the Black Family's dark ways still caused her anxiety, so Annabelle didn't think it was necessary to fill her in how they tried to ruin her relationship with Sirius a year ago. It would only upset her more.

"I know that young love can be tumultuous, but I'd hate to see him hurt again," she went on, then stopped washing and covered her mouth with the back of her wrist, soaps suds coating her fingers. "Pardon my forwardness. It's none of my business, I know that. And I'm not telling you what to do, or how to live your life, I -"

"His heart is safe with me," said Annabelle. "You have my word."

Andromeda nodded, and began washing another tea cup. "I'm sorry if I'm overstepping my bounds, Annabelle. I just worry about him. He's strong, I know, but sometimes…" She sighed and went quiet.

"I love him," Annabelle assured her. "Even when he's stroppy or distant… or sad. He means the world to me."

"Yeah?"

Annabelle didn't know how to convince her that she wasn't going to rip out her cousin's already battered heart. She hoped Andy would just believe her.

"Yeah. Like I really love him. Maybe it sounds mad, but it's true."

Andromeda blew out a long breath, her shoulders relaxing, and smiled. "It doesn't sound mad, and I'll have you know, he said he really loves you, as well."

Annabelle felt her cheeks warm as she fought the huge grin spreading across her face. "I know he does."

"This was a good day," Andromeda said, bumping shoulders with Annabelle.

After returning to the sitting room for a bit more conversation, and one more trip outside so Sirius could experience the tree palace, they hugged their farewells with promises to keep in touch. Andy grew teary-eyed again as Sirius and Annabelle stepped into the fireplace, and Ted put an arm around her.

"Bye-bye, Sirius and Annie!" Nymphadora said as she waved her hand.

"Bye-bye, princess," said Annabelle.

Moments later, after calling out their destination, they stepped out of the floo in the headmaster's office. Dumbledore wasn't there, so they let themselves out and headed to the Great Hall for dinner.

"Thank you for coming with me," said Sirius, as they walked through the empty corridors.

"You don't have to thank me. I wanted to go with you."

"Dora's a laugh, isn't she?"

"That's an understatement. You should've heard her in the tree house."

"Well, I'm glad you liked her because I volunteered us to mind her while they go out to dinner sometime."

"That's what family is for. Child minding."

Sirius let out a laugh. He had a skip in his step, like a small part of him had healed.

"Maybe someday Dora will be child minding for us," he said, raising his eyebrows.

Annabelle was surprised to hear him talk that way, considering he never spoke of things like marriage and children. His childhood had soured him against the idea. Quite frankly, she was okay with that, since talk of both frightened her a bit. They were still kids themselves.

"Sirius, is that you in there?" she asked, only half joking. "Or have you been cursed?"

He sighed, a faint smile still on his lips and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Eh, it's just a thought. It doesn't seem as awful after seeing them together."

"How about we worry about passing our N.E.W.T.s first?" she said, linking her arm with his.

"I could pass a bloody N.E.W.T. in my sleep."

"Oh, you could? Because I couldn't."

"Trust me, Annie. Everything is going to work out, and a year from now, you and I will be in our own flat, making sweet-"

"Sirius!" she scolded him, then whispered sharply, "Someone might hear you."

"I was just going to say, making sweet _memories_."

"I'll bet you were."

He laughed again, and his cheerful mood was infectious. When they reached the Great Hall, he tried to tickle her, and she gave him a harmless jab in the side before heading to the table.

He gripped his side dramatically, and said in an exaggerated, deep voice, " _Don't hurt me like that, baby_."

"Baby?" she giggled. "Who _are_ you right now?"

He puckered his lips and tugged at his shirt collar. "I'm Andy Gibb's little brother."

Her shoulders began shaking with laughter, and when she caught her breath, she said, "I didn't know you were an Andy Gibb fan."

He broke character and replied, "I'm definitely not a fan, but I have a very sharp memory. When James and I paid you and Lily a visit over Easter hols, you'd been drooling over pictures of him in a magazine."

"Drooling?" she repeated as she sat down at the table. "Hardly."

"You were drooling again, Annie?" asked James. "You really should see a healer about that."

She let out a huff, but couldn't hide her smile.

"You remember," Sirius said to James. "They were drooling over that muggle chap called Andy Gibb."

"Right," said James. "The one with the feathery hair and his shirt unbuttoned to his navel."

"That's the one."

"He was born in Manchester," offered Caradoc. "A home town lad."

"So are you going to drool over him, as well?" asked Sirius. His remark was met with a bread roll to the face.

"Andy Gibb is a stone cold fox," said Johnny B.

Alice nodded in agreement, but Peter just shook his head in confusion.

"We weren't drooling over him," said Lily. "We were discussing whether we found him attractive or not."

"Lies," said James. Lily smiled and rolled her eyes.

"No discussion necessary," said Alice. "He's a fox."

"He may be a stone cold fox," said Remus, wiping his mouth with his napkin, "but I'm a stone cold wolf."

The boys seized with laughter, and just in case there was any doubt in Sirius' mind, Annabelle leaned in and said, "You're far foxier than Andy Gibb."

He grinned triumphantly, then whispered, "You wouldn't happen to be free tonight, let's say around midnight, would you?"

She pressed her leg against his. "I'll have to check my calendar and get back to you on that."

He took her hand under the table and rubbed his thumb over hers, sending a current through her. He gave her a timid glance and she pressed her lips to his cheek, but he turned his head and met her lips.

Peter rolled his eyes. "Oi! I'm eating over here."

They abruptly separated. "Sorry," said Annabelle, blushing crimson.

"Yeah, Peter still thinks kissing is nasty," said Johnny B. "Right, Pete?"

"In that case," said James. He took Lily by the face and planted a sloppy kiss on her mouth.

"Hope you enjoy my chewed potatoes," she said to him when he pulled apart from her. "Warn a girl next time."

"Those were the best potatoes I ever tasted."

Lily had just taken a sip of water and started coughing and laughing at the same time.

"I don't think kissing is gross," said Peter, "as long as I don't have to see it."

"So don't look," said James.

"Right," agreed Johnny B. "It makes you sound jealous."

Peter swallowed his food and put down his fork. "I'll have you all know, I kissed a girl this summer. And she was a _fox_."

"Kissing actual foxes doesn't count, Pete," said Sirius.

"Yeah," said James. "Stick to your own species."

Everyone laughed, and surprisingly, Peter shook his head and chuckled along with them. Maybe he had actually kissed a girl over the summer, but just accepted that his mates would never believe him. Whatever the truth was, Andromeda was right; it was a good day.

 


	3. A Top Night

Late the following Saturday afternoon, after returning from the first Hogsmeade visit of the year, James stood in front of the mirror in his dorm room, trying to tame his unruly mop of black hair. It had always been a problem, that hair, for everyone but him. So what if it stood up in places where it should lie flat? Sometimes, he thought it made him look cool, like he'd just hopped off his broom after burying Slytherin in a Quidditch match, and he would run a hand through it to enhance the effect. Of course, that was mainly to impress Lily, back when they were younger, but it had never worked. Neither had all the showing off, or the staring at her in every class, or the stupid jokes he had memorised, hoping she'd laugh at them. It wasn't until he stopped trying so hard to impress her that she finally warmed up to him; she finally saw behind the bravado, and liked what she saw. He didn't have to be one of the most popular lads in school (even though he was), or have the best hair (because Sirius would always win that, hands down) and he didn't have to hide his intellect or his vulnerability with her. She loved him the way he was.

So, because Lily meant the world to him, he wanted to impress her parents, and for the first time ever, he wished his hair would obey his command. For her sake. He'd met Mr. and Mrs. Evans a few times, but this was the first official Evans family gathering he'd be attending. Lily's family was important to her, including that bitter hag Petunia, which meant he needed to look like a gentleman, not some teenaged slob that couldn't be bothered to run a comb through his hair.

"Getting ready to dine with your future in-laws?" Peter asked as he slipped into the room.

Sirius followed behind him, swiping his hand over James' head to mess his hair again.

"Come on, Sirius! It's taken me twenty minutes to get it like this!"

"Future in-laws?" Sirius asked, flopping onto his bed. "Did you forget to tell me something?"

James gave an absent shake of the head. "No, I didn't. Pete's just trying to wind me up."

"What if her father asks you what your intentions are with his daughter?" Peter asked, an impish glint in his eyes.

"He's not going to ask me that," said James. "This dinner is for her sister and Vermin, I mean _Vernon_. Not to interrogate me."

He felt his mouth go dry, though, as the thought of Harvey Evans questioning him lodged in his brain. James' intentions were to marry Lily - he was sure, deep inside, that she was the one. But did he have the guts to say it out loud, to either one of her parents? They'd probably warn her about getting too serious too quickly, and tell her to break up with him.

"Stop making him nervous," said Sirius. "He's already sweating giant armpit stains into his shirt."

"I am?" James jerked his arms up to look, and Sirius and Peter burst out laughing. There were no stains. "Tossers."

"And don't forget," said Sirius, the teasing gone from his voice. "Don't let her sister or Vermin get to you, because if you use magic on them, I don't think the family will want you back."

James ran his comb through his hair one last time. "No shit."

"Remember - stay calm," said Sirius.

"All right! Merlin! You think I'm some kind of maniac?"

Sirius laughed again. "Only sometimes." James shot him a look, and Sirius said, "Fine, I don't think you're a maniac, but I do know you already can't stand Petunia, because of how she treats Lily. And if Vermin's anything like her, well…"

"True, but I'm not going to hex anyone, so relax. I plan to muggle-out for the night. Pretend I don't even own a wand."

"Muggle-out?" squeaked Peter. "Is this a new thing? I've never heard of muggling-out."

James exchanged an amused glance with Sirius before replying. "No, I made it up. But feel free to use it."

Sirius shook his head at his friends and smiled. As eager as he was to finish school, he would miss this in a year's time - the joking around, the teasing each other, the camaraderie. This room, with James, Remus, and Peter, had been the best home he'd ever known.

The door opened, and Remus walked in, returning from a walkthrough. When he saw James he said, "You clean up well, Prongs. Almost didn't recognise you."

"I'm not above putting you in a headlock, Moony. Wait, yes, I am. I can't be arsed to comb my hair again." James tossed the comb onto his night stand, and put on a blazer. "I'm heading downstairs."

"I'll come," said Sirius. "Meeting Annie in a few minutes to practise potions." He pointed at Remus as he followed James. "And you, my friend, owe me a tie-breaker from our Exploding Snap marathon last week. Let's finish this."

Remus groaned. He reluctantly set the book he had picked up back onto its pile, and followed his mates to the common room.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Lily had finished getting dressed, deciding on a knee-length navy blue skirt that swished when she walked, and a paisley patterned blouse to match. It was a modest muggle outfit, nothing witchy about it, nothing for her sister to criticise as she'd done over the summer when she came for a weekend visit.

Lily and Annabelle had developed a growing obsession with Stevie Nicks, the muggle singer, and had each bought a dress that looked exactly like something she would wear – long and black, clingy on the top, flowing on the bottom, and topped them off with fringed lace shawls and black felt hats. They'd been saving their allowances for months prior, and they were quite pleased with themselves, dancing in front of the mirror to "Dreams" and taking turns playing Stevie. They had laughed at their reflections, as it was exactly something they would have done when they were twelve, but a part of them wanted to hang onto adolescence, if only for a little longer.

When Petunia passed by and saw them in the dark ensembles, their hair blown away from their faces and their make-up heavy, she sneered, "For a moment I thought it was Halloween, but then I remembered _every day_ is Halloween in _your_ world. I wonder if you'll grow warts on your noses and if your nails will turn gnarled and black."

_They could never be as black as your soul,_ Lily had thought, but kept the bitter words to herself. It would only provoke an argument, and she hated for Annabelle to witness Petunia when she was really wound up. But, they had been proud of their outfits, and had even snapped photos of each other in them, never thinking for a moment that they looked like the muggle world's witch stereotype, which was more like a hag than a real, ordinary witch. Lily knew Petunia wouldn't compliment her on the look, but Stevie Nicks was allegedly a muggle herself. Surely Petunia couldn't find fault with Lily imitating a muggle. _Wrong again_ , thought Lily.

"Do you reckon we look like hags instead of incredibly hip singers?" Annabelle had asked, frowning into the mirror, her shoulders slumped.

Lily had shrugged, the resentment inside of her turning to hurt. "Maybe to a person who only listens to her boring boyfriend's crap music. She probably thinks Stevie Nicks is a freak, as well."

Deep down, though, Lily had a feeling everything she ever did would be dissected and demeaned by Petunia. She had an impulse to march into Petunia's room and tell her that _she,_ with her judgemental, jealous words, was the only hag in Cokeworth, but it wouldn't change anything. She often wondered if Petunia even loved her anymore. It certainly didn't feel like it.

Thinking of Petunia's cruelty made Lily regret accepting James' offer to accompany her to the celebratory dinner, only because she couldn't bear for her own sister to insult and dismiss another one of her friends, especially the boy she loved to the moon and back. Hopefully, Vernon's presence would prompt Petunia to be on her best behaviour. She wouldn't want her groom-to-be to think her rude. Then again…

"Would you like me to curl your hair?" asked Annabelle.

"No, but thank you," Lily replied, running a brush through her thick auburn locks. "I don't feel like making an extra effort tonight."

She was meeting James in the common room in five minutes, and from there they would use the Floo connection in Dumbledore's office. Mrs. Evans had finally agreed to allow her daughter to use magic to get home, but only if someone else was with her.

"It's only a curling charm. Learned it from one of Zelda's _Siren_ magazines."

Lily couldn't help but smile. Magic was so versatile, and it really did make life easier in many ways. But not in every way, as Petunia had shown her. Still, it's not like Lily woke up one morning and said, _I think I'll be a witch from now on in order to upset Petunia._ It just happened, whether she wished it or not, and she was happy it did.

"Thanks, Annie, but I wouldn't want to be late on account of my hair."

"You look lovely, Lily. Very sensible and mature," said Phyllis, who was sitting on her bed sketching rather lifelike images of baby owls.

"Thank you, Phyllis, I appreciate it." She slipped on her Mary Janes and her beige wool coat that tied around the waist, and she was ready. Or as ready as she could be before enduring an evening of her sister and Vernon Dursley.

"Try to enjoy yourself," said Alice. "Don't give her the satisfaction of seeing you suffer."

"Right," Lily replied with a determined nod. "I'm off."

Annabelle gathered her Potions materials and followed Lily downstairs. Professor Slughorn held nightly open lab hours for the seventh-years, and because they had an exam coming up, she and Sirius had signed up for the 5:00-6:00 slot. Not that Sirius needed the extra practice, but Annabelle certainly did.

The boys were already there when Lily and Annabelle arrived. James looked a bit nervous, standing against the wall by the portrait hole with his arms folded and ankles crossed, but he straightened up when Lily appeared, doing his best to be composed.

"You look beautiful, as usual," he said as he took her hand.

Lily smiled weakly. "As do you."

"Don't forget to muggle-out," Sirius said to James from a study table where he was playing the tie-breaking match of Exploding Snap with Remus.

"Muggle-out?" Annabelle asked, keeping her distance from the vexing game. It made her jumpier than usual.

James grinned. "You know - pretend I'm muggle. Fit in with ole Vernon. Forget that I can curse someone through a wall in mere seconds if they test my nerves."

Annabelle glanced at Lily, who was looking dejectedly at the floor.

"You wouldn't…" said Annabelle.

James exhaled in annoyance. "Of course I wouldn't. I'm not the nutcase you and Sirius apparently think I am."

"You were the one that mentioned cursing people through walls," she said.

"I WIN!" Sirius sprang from his seat like he'd won the Quiddtich cup.

Remus chuckled as he gathered the cards from the table. "Because I let you win."

"Oh sure, you wish," said Sirius as he picked up his Potions notes. The boys bantered back and forth, taking good-natured shots at each other until Lorelei slammed a fist on the table adjacent to theirs.

"When will you lot realise you are not the only people that live here?" she said in her typical gruff tone. "Shut your fucking gobs and let people revise in peace."

Sirius mouth opened to speak, but Remus said, "Lorelei, there's this place called a library, you see. It's this cavernous, multi-storied room on the third floor, filled with books - and it's rather famous for being a quiet place to study. You might want to check it out sometime."

"Thank you, I've heard of it," she sneered, then muttered under her breath, " _Selfish prats…_ "

Before Sirius could respond, Annabelle took his hand and pulled him along behind James and Lily as they exited the common room. Sirius took the cauldron from Annabelle and tucked it under his arm.

"Good luck," Sirius said, when James and Lily headed off to Dumbledore's office.

"No luck necessary," replied James. "It's going to be a top night. I can feel it."

As they walked away, Lily gave a pained half-smile and a hesitant wave to Annabelle, and Annabelle waved back in sympathy. Then, Sirius put an arm around her and they continued to the dungeons.

"See how much I love you? I'm spending a Saturday evening in the Potions lab." He shuddered dramatically, but the smile he'd elicited from her tugged at his heart, lighting him up inside.

"And I love you even more for doing this for me," she replied.

He gave her shoulder a squeeze. "Come on, you know I'd stay there with you all night if you needed me to."

"I know," she said, holding his gaze a few seconds longer than his heart could take. When she looked at him that way, he was gone, melted into a puddle of mush. A year later, and sometimes he still couldn't believe they were together. After all, they'd spent years building walls to keep each other out. And yet, there she was, his heart walking beside him.

"I'm suddenly regretting this," he said.

"Why?" she asked with a chuckle.

"Because I can think something I'd much rather be doing with you right now than brewing potions in a dingy old dungeon."

"Patience, yeah?" she said, stepping in front of him and pulling him in for a kiss.

Sirius squinted in confusion. "What's patience?"

She laughed, and led him by his shirt towards the stairs.

Much to their disgust, it wasn't Slughorn monitoring the students in the lab. It was, of all people, Severus sodding Snape. He looked down his nose at the pair as they as they reported to their usual table. There were two other seventh-years there, both from Ravenclaw and working alone.

Sirius unrolled his parchment with the instructions for Wiggenweld Potion, one of the more difficult potions to master. "I'll get the ingre-"

"You must _sign in_ ," commanded Severus from his perch at the front of the room.

"-dients," finished Sirius, eying his nemesis. "I'll _sign us in_ on the way."

He strode to the professor's lab station where Severus sat stirring a bubbling cauldron. Sirius glanced at the parchment in front of the smarmy wizard, but Severus swiftly covered it with his hand.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, and picked up the quill next to the sign-in sheet. As he wrote their names, he said in a low voice, "Sneaking around as usual, I see."

"Worry about yourself, Black."

"I am worried about myself. You could very well be brewing that potion to carry out some new, deranged plot against me. You know, like you did last year."

"Sorry to hurt your fragile feelings, but contrary to your inflated ego, I do not spend my days thinking about _you_."

Sirius gritted his teeth, an inferno of anger burning inside of him. As far as he knew, Severus had never been punished for brewing the Polyjuice Potion for his housemates in an attempt to destroy Sirius and Annabelle's relationship. In fact, Dumbledore had brushed Snivelly's involvement in the whole scandal under the rug. Sirius knew he would, because the headmaster had let Sirius off the hook for telling Snivels how to get inside the Whomping Willow. The difference was, as impulsive as Sirius had been to inform him, Sirius never thought Severus would be stupid enough to actually go inside the tree, whereas Severus knew exactly the harm he'd be doing by brewing the Polyjuice Potion. He'd intended to hurt people, despite his claims of innocence.

Annabelle cleared her throat, and Sirius looked at her, snapping out of his trance. She stared uneasily at him, so he tossed the quill onto the table.

" _Dirtbag_ ," he muttered under his breath, and stalked away to the supply cabinet. _Take the high road,_ he told himself. He had promised Dumbledore he wouldn't instigate with Snivellus, and he was trying like hell to honour his promise, but in moments like these, it was all he could do not to hex the slimeball's face off.

Once they had the necessary ingredients, they lit the flame under the cauldron and began. Sirius watched as Annabelle brewed the potion from memory, only intervening if she had an ingredient or measurement wrong. Severus was hard at work on his potion, which had begun to emit some foul fumes.

"Merlin, what's he brewing?" asked Annabelle, covering her nose with the collar of her shirt when the smell got particularly putrid.

"Maybe it's a super-potent shampoo that can cut through the layers of grease embedded in his hair."

Annabelle started coughing and Sirius rubbed her back. The acrid stench burned their throats. The other two students got up and left, presumably because it wasn't worth having their lungs on fire for an extra hour of potions practice.

"Oi, Snape," Sirius called out, and when Severus glanced tiredly at him, he continued, "Can't you brew that shite later, like after everyone is gone for the night? Not like you won't be in here until two AM anyway."

"I can't stop the process now. Maybe _you_ can come back at a different time."

"Of course," said Annabelle, "because your potion takes precedence over everyone else's."

"When it's requested by Professor Slughorn, it does. Now stop your bleating. I'm trying to concentrate."

"Pompous git," Annabelle whispered. She started gathering her notes.

"He's up to something," Sirius said, his eyes narrowed on Severus.

"Yeah?"

"He covered the instructions for whatever's in that cauldron when I was signing in."

"You know he likes to invent spells. Maybe he's moved on to potions and thinks everyone's out to steal his ideas."

"Maybe."

But Sirius had a feeling there was more to it than protecting his work. The psycho invented "Sectumsempra," a spell that could only spring from the mind of a dark, sadistic, asshole. Whatever he was hiding, it couldn't be good.

"I can't stand the fumes," said Annabelle. "Let's go."

Sirius hated to leave, not only because Annabelle needed the practice, but because it felt like surrender.

"I can come back next week," she said, her shirt still covering half her face and her eyes watering from the smoke. As much as he hated to admit it, he was starting to feel ill himself.

They stopped the brewing process with a quick cooling spell and vanished the half-completed potion. Annabelle couldn't get out the door fast enough, coughing as she disappeared into the corridor. Sirius followed behind, but turned back and said to Severus, "Got the place to yourself now. Carry on with your deviance."

Severus looked up sharply, but the rest of him remained stock still, except for the slow motion of his arm stirring the smoking cauldron. He looked sinister, sitting there, glaring back at Sirius, but Sirius shot him a condescending smirk and followed Annabelle into the corridor, shaking his head with feigned pity.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Whatever could be keeping them?" Mrs. Evans asked, staring out the front window and tugging at her necklace. James and Lily had arrived at the Evans' home fifteen minutes ago, and there was still no sign of Petunia and Vernon. "I hope we don't miss our reservation."

Lily stood beside her mother and said in a low voice, "Mum, you seem on edge. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, dear. I'm hoping for a pleasant evening."

"Aren't we all," Lily mumbled.

"What dear? Ah, here they are."

Mrs. Evans moved to the front door and opened it, and Lily watched from the window as an unfamiliar car pulled into the driveway. James appeared beside her, the expression on his face changing from curious to delighted when a burly young muggle stepped out of the driver's side.

"No need to get out! We're coming!" Kaye Evans called. Vernon nodded to Mrs. Evans, and got back inside the car. She turned to Lily and James as she threw on a lightweight coat, her husband already heading out the door. "Ready, then?"

The ride to the restaurant was subdued. James turned his head a few times, intrigued by the red car containing Petunia and Vernon that followed behind. His facial expression was similar to how Lily imagined an alien might react when it landed on a foreign planet. The entire premise of riding in cars with muggles was fascinating to him.

"These things are pricey, yeah?" said James, patting the seat with both hands.

Lily nodded. "It often takes years to pay for them."

"Incredible."

Lily smiled at him, endeared by his childlike wonder at something she found so mundane. Cars were just cars. Overpriced hunks of metal that had taken her from point A to point B for two-thirds of her life. The two-thirds spent with Petunia.

"Mum, did Tuney tell Vernon about me?" It was a question she'd been afraid to ask.

Kaye hesitated, her shoulders going rigid. "Em… yes dear, she did. Oh, Harvey, watch the speed limit."

"And? What did he say?"

"Petunia tells me he was rather shocked, but you know how she exaggerates. He'll get used to the idea, the same as we did."

Lily sighed softly and looked out the window. She also knew her mum preferred to sugarcoat things. It made it easier to remain in denial. She felt James' hand slip over hers, warm and steady, pulling her back from her worries.

When they arrived, Vernon pulled in beside them in the car park and they all walked to the entrance together. The engaged couple didn't even acknowledge Lily and James until Petunia whispered something in Vernon's ear, and he darted his eyes to James for a second before looking away.

"I'm guessing she just told him I'm a wizard," James mumbled to Lily.

"Ignore him. His opinion means nothing." She shouldn't be surprised that Vernon felt the same way about magic as Petunia, but a small part of her had hoped maybe he'd find it exciting, and then he'd be able to convince Petunia she'd been misjudging Lily. Maybe he had a grain of decency inside of him somewhere, and would give her a chance to show him she's not really as bad as Petunia made her out to be.

Vernon was rattling on to her parents about his new car when he tripped on a crack in the pavement. James chuckled, then abruptly cleared his throat and forced a straight face. He glanced sheepishly at Lily, and she gave him a sideways glance, her lips fighting the urge to smile.

"You shouldn't look so pleased when people trip," he whispered to her, and she let out a small laugh. Petunia whipped round and sent Lily a look of warning, but Lily pretended not to notice. James would get her through the evening. Everything would be fine.

"Ah, Vino al Vino," crowed Vernon as they walked under the awning that displayed the restaurant's name. "Who doesn't love Italian cuisine? It's _molto bene._ "

"I thought it was a good choice," said Kaye. "It's a wonderful restaurant."

Vernon was still talking about his car when they were seated at their table. Not about wedding details, or where they planned to honeymoon. No, it was all about his bloody car. No one could concentrate on the menu with his mouth running about gas mileage, custom colours, and why the Audi 80 L was far superior to his old Datsun Sunny.

"A car fit for a Queen," he said, smiling at Petunia. "Anything for my bride."

"You said it can go naught to sixty in under fifteen seconds?" asked James.

"That's right. Staggeringly high horsepower to boot."

James was perplexed. He didn't understand what horses had to do with cars, but naught to sixty in fifteen seconds didn't sound very fast.

"Oh, right," he said, pretending to understand, and took a sip of his muggle soda, something called Fanta Orange that Lily had recommended. It wasn't bad.

Vernon stiffened at James' unenthusiastic response, his ears turning red. "What kind of car do you drive, then?" he demanded.

James almost choked, and set down his glass. "I don't own a car. But, I do own a Silver Arrow 500 racing broomstick. It can go from naught to ninety in under ten seconds. It's currently the best on the market."

"Did you say b-broomstick?" asked Vernon. Petunia rested her elbow on the table and put her hand on her forehead.

James nodded hesitantly, not having expected Vernon's prickly reaction. "Yes. A racing broomstick. Top of the line."

"I thought that whole broomstick thing was the stuff of fairy tales," replied Vernon, then narrowed his eyes slightly. "Are you taking the mick?"

"No, he's not," said Lily. Apparently, Petunia had left out some of magic's finer points when revealing her abilities to the man. "We ride brooms. We can travel great distances on them if we prefer, and some of us, like James, play sport on them. We don't have any use for cars." She didn't bother explaining about the Floo Network, portkeys, or apparition, because it would only anger her sister and confuse Vernon even more.

"I told you, dear," said Petunia. "It's all a bit archaic, this magic stuff. Like living in the Dark Ages."

"Actually, it's rather practical," said James. "Never have to look for parking… no getting stuck in traffic… doesn't take years to pay for it…"

"I'll have my car paid off in a year and half," said Vernon, his head held high. "That's much faster than most people can afford."

Lily exhaled slowly through her nose in an effort to stay calm. "He wasn't saying you couldn't afford-"

"Look girls, they have your favourite!" Lily's mother trilled, clutching at her necklace again. "Cheese ravioli. You used to ask for it all the time in restaurants when you were small."

"And you used to love ordering for yourselves," said Harvey. " _Mummy and Daddy, we'll say what we want to the waiter._ So darling you both were."

Her parents expertly steered the conversation away from cars and brooms, but the perturbed look on Petunia's face remained.

Finally, after an hour's wait, their food arrived, and for the first time all evening Vernon fell silent, tucking into his spaghetti and meatballs like a ravenous bear. Lily had been bored to tears by all of his talking. She had learned more about drill parts, the lineage of the Dursley family, and Vernon's "management style" at the factory than she ever thought possible.

James had been watching him, wide-eyed, a bemused expression on his face all evening. At least one of them found Vernon entertaining. Sometimes, Vernon would try to be funny, and James would laugh, usually a bit too hard, in an effort to get along with the man. Every time James laughed, Vernon would glare at him, like he thought James was mocking him. It also appeared that James could say nothing right; every sound out of his mouth, when he was allowed to speak, was met with suspicion, and either challenged or completely dismissed as "nonsense."

Now, Vernon was mostly quiet, the only sounds emitting from him the slurping of spaghetti and a satisfied grunt here and there. Lily made the mistake of making eye contact with James, and suddenly both of them were consumed by the urge to laugh, their shoulders shaking and their heads bowed.

"Stab me in the thigh with your fork," he whispered to Lily, his eyes growing teary. "Please… It might help."

She covered her mouth with her napkin, laughing harder.

"What are you two giggling about over there," Kaye asked innocently, grinning at the two of them.

"Oh, nothing really," replied Lily, no longer able to hold it in. "James told me a joke..."

"Tell us the joke, then, James," said Harvey. "Go on."

Petunia looked angrily from Lily to James, and James' laughter died away. "Oh, em, it's a wizard joke, so…"

"What, do you think we're beneath your humour?" Petunia snapped.

He froze for a moment, taken aback by her question. "No," he replied. "But you might not… understand it. That's all. But I can tell it anyway if you'd like."

Vernon raised an eyebrow. "I'd like to hear it."

Sweat broke out on James' forehead as he racked his brain for an appropriately harmless joke, but all came to mind were mean jokes that would make him look like an asshole. Right when he thought he'd have to claim he forgot the joke already, one came to him - an innocent joke he thought was funny when he was younger.

"How did the troll try to kill the hippogriff?" he asked.

Just as he'd feared, blank stares all around.

"He threw it off a cliff," Lily blurted out stiffly.

Silence.

"You see," James attempted to explain, "Trolls are really stupid, and hippogriffs can fly, so…"

More silence.

"Oh, I get it then," Harvey said, chuckling. "Yes, a good one."

James exhaled, glad someone finally got it. Vernon had stopped chewing and was staring at him, clearly still confused.

"You know, the troll was stupid enough to think… eh, forget it. My humour's not for everyone."

"Your humour is rather quaint," clipped Petunia as she picked up her wine glass. "Is it true you didn't go to school as a child?"

"Petunia! That is not what I said," Kaye scolded, but Petunia stayed focused on James.

"School?" James asked. "Em, no. I didn't. Go to school, that is. I had a private tutor."

"A private tutor?" Vernon piped up. "In place of school? That must have cost your parents dearly."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, I suspect the employment obtained by your kind is rather limited to travelling circuses, magic shows, and what not. You must receive some sort of assistance, from the government I'd reckon."

Circus freak shows. Vernon was implying his parents made a paltry wage, working in travelling freak shows. He turned to Lily, unsure how to respond. "Is he joking?"

"Actually," Lily said to Vernon, "circuses are a muggle institution. There are plenty of career options exclusively for witches and wizards."

James had the distinct feeling Vernon was trying to demean him in front of Lily's parents by painting him as some uneducated hobo with no job prospects, or more specifically, as someone unsuitable for their daughter. His resolve to "muggle-out" began to crumble.

"And many wizarding careers pay rather well," he said. "My father's family come from a long line of Quidditch gear manufacturers. We own the largest gear company in Europe and have distributors round globe, which have yielded a fortune over the centuries in solid gold galleons. It's enough to generously support my future family and several generations after them."

"How vulgar to speak of money in such a manner," said Petunia.

"Excuse me?" replied Lily. "Wasn't it your fiancé that brought up the topic of money in the first place by insinuating wizards must receive unemployment benefits? Or did I misinterpret?"

"Vernon was curious. It's all new to him, and he's trying to understand."

"Come off it, Tuney. He implied that we all work in freak shows. Talk about vulgar."

"Girls, please," snapped Kaye, her teeth gritted. "We are in public. Let's not squabble here."

"What else is he to think?" Petunia asked, her eyes glued to Lily, her voice patronising. "Honestly, you expect everyone to be impressed with you, with your special powers, but not everyone sees it the way you do. Some of us are genuinely disturbed by it, and find it sort of odd and off-putting."

"Off-putting? How is having the ability to do magic, _real_ magic, off-putting? What, is he afraid of us?"

"Girls," Harvey said. "Let's change the subject." He might as well have been talking to a wall.

"Now now, Lily," said Petunia, wearing an exaggerated frown. "You're getting all worked up, and I'm only trying to explain to you that some people won't agree with your… _strange ways_. You shouldn't take it so personally. I'm sure James is a really lovely chap, despite his abnormalities."

_"_ _Abnormalities?_ " She turned to James, whose hand was suddenly on her back, trying to calm her. "Did she say _abnormalities_?" James nodded slowly, his lips tight. He was obviously uncomfortable with where things were headed, but Lily was like a burst dam; she couldn't stop herself. "Lovely show you're putting on for Vernon, trying to paint us as damaged, somehow. Why don't you show him what you're really made of, like when you tell me I'll grow warts on my nose, or that my children will have hunchbacks and snakes for hair. Tell him how you call us freaks, and imply that we're stupid, but then you go behind my back and read my diary because you're so damned curious to know how we live. How about you fill him in on the tantrum you threw when I was accepted to Hogwarts and you weren't. Go on, tell him how much you _wanted_ to be a witch, and when you realised it wasn't something you could become if you begged for it long enough, you decided to _hate_ me for it!"

"Girls, _please,_ enough of this _,_ " Kaye hissed. "People are staring. Lower your voices."

Petunia glared at Lily, her face twitching with indignation. The air was charged, thick with tension, as Lily's breaths came short and angry. Finally, Petunia spoke.

"How dare you try to humiliate me in front of my fiancé?"

Lily returned Petunia's glare. "You are doing a fine job of that all by yourself."

Suddenly, Petunia's face constricted with hurt. "How could you do this to me, on this night… this one night that was supposed to be about _me?_ " Tears filled her eyes, and Vernon handed her a handkerchief. "You bring your arrogant boyfriend here to mock Vernon with talk of brooms and massive fortunes, to rub it in that we are _so bloody_ _ordinary_ and beneath you, special little flower that you are, while I wilt in your shadow as always-"

"You are twisting things," said Lily, her finger pointing at Petunia. "You have resented me for years-"

"Because nothing I do will ever be as good in comparison," Petunia replied, her voice growing soft. "I will always be Tuney - the girl who wasn't special enough."

"You're special to me, love," said Vernon. "You are the most special person in the world to me, and I've had enough of seeing you get hurt tonight. Let's be on our way."

Petunia and Lily held each other's stare a moment longer, then Petunia nodded to Vernon.

"No, dear, please," said Kaye. "We love you so much. You will always be special to us. Sit down and let's forget all this rivalry rubbish. You are each other's only sister, and you will never get another. Now, let's enjoy ourselves, why don't we."

"I know you love me, Mummy, but I can't do this," Petunia replied, standing up. "I will ring you when we get back to London."

Harvey stood up as well. "Now darling, surely you'll stay with us tonight instead of driving back so late. Your room is all ready for you, and Vernon can sleep on the pull-out sofa."

"Thank you, Dad, but I think we'll be off. I love you both."

Lily watched as her mother followed them and had a private conversation with them by the exit. James looked forlorn, slumped in his chair, staring at the table, and her father took a giant swig of his wine. Something about the turn of events felt so final. A wave of guilt and shame suddenly bore down on her, and she jumped from her seat.

"Wait, Tuney! It doesn't have to be this way! Please, don't go like this!"

"No, we're leaving," said Vernon, as he helped Petunia into her coat. "This evening has been a trial, for both of us."

"I was talking to _my sister."_

"It's best we go," said Petunia. "Your friend has been so insulting to Vernon. You should have known not to bring your kind along."

"But he didn't mean any harm! You read into it! And he's important to me. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"It means as much to me as my engagement means to you."

James had heard enough, and pushed his chair back.

"Now James…" said Harvey, but he didn't care. Petunia was out of line.

"This has to stop," James said as he approached. "When are you going to quit belittling your sister? She showed up, didn't she? Even though she knew you were going to be horrible to her."

Kaye ran into the loo, her eyes red with tears.

"I don't have to take this from you," said Petunia. "You insult me in front of my family-"

"If I insulted you, it was unintentional. I swear, I didn't even know what… _he_ was talking about with his horses and car power. I was trying to get along with you, for Lily's sake, because for some reason, despite how despicable you've been to her, she still wants her sister back."

"I suggest you don't say another word," warned Vernon, his jaw set. "Or else, I'll-"

"Or else you'll what?" said James, stepping closer to the offensive muggle. "You'll what?"

Lily grabbed his arm and tugged him back. "James, no," she begged, supressing her own urge to cry.

Petunia's face was frozen with fear. "Let's go," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, and hurried Vernon out of the restaurant.

"That's it, run," called James. _"Coward._ "

Lily watched the door close behind them, then turned back toward the table. Her limbs felt like jello and her heart was pounding in her ears. When she saw the half-eaten plates of food, her mother coming back from the loo, still dabbing her eyes with a napkin, and the empty chairs where her sister and Vernon had been, she burst into tears.

"I'm so sorry, Mum," she cried. "I know you wanted this night to be special and I ruined it. I shouldn't have come."

Maybe Petunia and her fiancé truly had believed she and James were mocking them, because it still must have been difficult for them to grasp - broomsticks, wizard jokes, and words like Quidditch, which to Vernon would sound like gibberish.

And poor James; he wasn't used to conversing with muggles. A wizard trying to talk about transportation with a muggle was like one person speaking Swedish and the other answering in Greek. She should have known better than to subject him to such a volatile situation.

"I'm sorry you had to witness this," she said to him. "I behaved badly, and I'm so embarrassed."

"Lily, stop crying," he said, gripping her hand and leaning in so she'd look at him. "It's not your fault. I should have kept my mouth shut when he brought up the car stuff. And I shouldn't have laughed at him. It's my fault they got so angry, not yours."

"It's no one's fault," announced Harvey, his speech slowed by the wine he'd been consuming all evening, probably to make the evening more bearable. He looked tired. "Your sister's had a bee in her bonnet ever since you were admitted to Hogwarts, because she feels left behind. She can't help it, I suppose, but you aren't responsible for her feelings. Someday, she's going to come to her senses, and in the meantime, try not to take it so hard, because, darling, there's not a thing you can do about it."

The waiter brought the bill, most likely under orders to get the scene-causers out of there. Lily had lost her appetite, and so had everyone else, from the looks of them staring despondently at their plates. Harvey paid the bill and finished his glass of wine in one gulp.

"That's that," he said, setting the glass back on the table. "Welcome to the family, James. Hope you'll join us again, soon." He laughed as though he'd told a hilarious joke, then handed his car keys to his wife. "Sorry, dear, but it looks as though you're driving us home tonight."

They exited into the breezy September night and crossed the car park. Lily felt the chill on her cheeks, still wet with tears.

"I'll make it up to them, Lily," James whispered. "I'll apologise, and we'll all sit down and sort it out like mature adults."

Lily swallowed hard and shook her head. "There's nothing for you to apologise for."

"I wish I hadn't said anything at all. I knew they were close-minded, but I thought, maybe if I tried to have a conversation with Vernon, maybe he'd see we weren't so bad, and then your sister would stop being so cruel to you."

Lily's tears returned, and she said, "It was sweet of you to try, but please, don't waste another thought on them. You've been through enough just tolerating them for one evening."

"So have you."

He was right about that. Her nerves were frazzled. They reached the car, and returned to the Evans' house in silence. Lily and James didn't stay long. Lily felt drained, and wanted to go back to Hogwarts, where no one ever made her feel guilty for being a witch.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Wow," said Alice. "You didn't hold back."

"God, it was awful," Lily said. She was lying on her bed, the tears rolling back into her hairline after telling Annabelle and Alice the entire story.

Alice handed her a tissue. "You did your best."

"Did I though? Couldn't I have tolerated her abuse for one night, if not for her sake, then for my parents' sake?"

"No one should have to tolerate abuse," said Annabelle. "For anyone's sake. And if she wanted a peaceful dinner, she should have behaved better. She knew what she was doing."

"You think she did it on purpose?"

"Sure she did. She wanted Vernon to see first-hand how much she disapproved of you."

"That's a good point," said Alice.

"Otherwise," continued Annabelle, "Vernon might reconsider his relationship with Petunia. He must be quite uncomfortable with the notion that magic is real, and Petunia wasn't taking any chances."

Lily wiped her eyes, and thought about it. "You think she was playing the martyr so he wouldn't think she was a freak, as well?"

"It's quite possible," said Alice. "But whatever the case, she's not innocent in the matter. Not by a long shot."

Lily nibbled her bottom lip. They were right; Petunia wasn't innocent. The way she'd spoken to James had proved it.

"Poor James," she said. "I was worried he might get angry with them straightaway, but he was trying so hard to understand them, for my sake…"

"Poor James and poor _you,"_ said Annabelle. "You've been putting up with her cruelty for years. I'd say it's about time you let her have it."

She shook her head sadly. "Still, I wish he hadn't come. Now he probably thinks we're all barking mad."

"Most families are barking mad to some degree," offered Alice. "If anything, now he truly understands your struggle with Petunia."

"I hope so." She looked down at her tissue, still unable to stem the flow of tears. "Merlin, what a disaster."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"It was a fucking disaster," said James as he pulled the tie from around his neck. "And now Lily's blaming herself, which is exactly what her sister wanted."

"Lily told you what she was like," said Peter. "Why are you so surprised?"

"I just thought if I could make them like me, maybe Petunia would cut her some slack. Stop using her as an emotional punching bag."

"But they had no intentions of liking you," said Sirius. "Petunia doesn't even like her own sister. Nothing you could have done would've changed their mind set."

"I reckon that's true. Part of me wants to write to Vernon, and say 'Hey, mate, life is short, so how about we let bygones be bygones,' but the other part of me wants to slug the ignorant pig in the gut."

"That would _not_ be the way to go," croaked Remus from under his covers, despite it being eight o'clock. The full moon would occur in two days, and fatigue had begun to take hold of him. "If you punch him, you'd be giving Petunia one more thing to hold against Lily."

James was growing weary of people warning him against harming Vernon. "I'm not actually going to punch him, Moony. But that doesn't mean I don't want to."

"Merlin. Poor Lily," said Sirius, who knew all about dysfunctional sibling relationships. "No matter how many times her sister is awful to her, she keeps expecting her to change. She can't let go, can she?"

"No, she can't. You'd think after tonight she'd be ready to, but she was so upset about it."

"Give her time," said Remus. "And be there for her. At this point, it's all you can do."

James nodded thoughtfully, wishing he could do more for her, but he had a hunch that trying to open Petunia and Vernon's minds would be like trying to pry a piece of meat from the jaws of a Hungarian Horntail - useless. Some people wrapped their ignorance around them like security blankets, finding comfort in it. Changing their views would mean admitting they were wrong, and they were too proud for that. He found it profoundly sad that Petunia's pride meant more to her than her own little sister, whose heart she had successfully shattered yet again that evening. One thing James knew for sure, if there ever was a next time, he would have to leave his wand at home, because the urge to use it would be too powerful to resist.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Later, after James and Lily's after-curfew walkthrough, they sneaked into the kitchens for a snack. Neither of them had finished their meal at the restaurant, and Lily was too hungry to worry about getting caught. It was a silly rule anyway. People could be hungry at any time of day, so it was unfair to ban entrance to the only kitchen in the castle. For goodness sake, the castle was her home for almost ten months out of the year, and that would be her defence should anyone report them.

They stood in front of the ice box, their wands lighting up the few scarce leftovers from dinner. Lily felt a tugging at her sleeve and turned round to find Izzy the house-elf, blinking up at them.

"Oh, Izzy, we're so sorry to disturb you," said Lily, her heart racing. Even though Izzy was known for her hospitality to students seeking late night snacks, Lily hadn't expected her to appear so soon.

"Izzy is not disturbed. Izzy will make you something to eat."

"Oh no, please, don't trouble yourself."

"Preparing food is no trouble for Izzy." She pushed between them and took out a stock pot from the ice box. She went to the hearth and lit the fire, and hung the pot over it.

"Sit," she said to Lily and James. They did as Izzy instructed and sat side by side at the end of a table. Bowls were placed in front of them, as well as small plates which Izzy piled high with tomato salad. A moment later, Izzy was ladling steaming Mulligatawny soup into their bowls.

After pouring them each a glass of pumpkin juice, she said, "Can Izzy be of any more service?"

"This is already more than we could have asked for, Izzy. Thank you," said James.

"It is an honour for Izzy to serve the head girl and head boy."

"Would you like to join us?" asked Lily. "Have a bite to eat as well?"

Tears sparkled in Izzy's huge eyes, and a smile spread across her face. "Izzy appreciates the offer, Miss Lily. But Izzy has work to do. Don't mind the dishes - Izzy will be back later to clean up."

The house elf toddled off through a door, the sound of her blowing her nose on a handkerchief echoing in the chamber beyond.

"Sensitive little things, house-elves," said James. "Then again, she probably doesn't get asked to eat with the people she serves very often. That was kind of you."

"It's the least I could do, considering we're not even supposed to be here right now."

"How did you turn out so… _good_ , while your sister is so mean-spirited?"

Lily thought about that for a moment. When she was young, she would have vehemently defended Petunia's behaviour, no matter how wrong Petunia had been. Severus had once called Petunia a jealous cow, and Lily had told him to never speak of her that way again, that he didn't know her, therefore he had no right to judge her. His words had been harsh, and at the time, Lily wasn't ready to admit her sister was anything less than her best friend in the world. She firmly believed that sisters should always defend each other, no matter what, because like her mother said, they were the only sisters they had.

Now, things had changed, and while she wouldn't want anyone to call Petunia a cow, mean-spirited seemed a pretty accurate descriptor.

"I'm not as good as you think. I was awful to her tonight."

James put down his spoon and sighed deeply. "Honestly, Lil, I think you showed loads of patience, considering how awful she's been to you for years."

"Still, I didn't have to say those things about her jealousy and her nosiness. It was inexcusable."

"But everything you said was true."

"Maybe so, but I shouldn't have called attention to it. Like my dad said, she can't help it."

"Listen, your dad is a good guy and all, but he's going to make excuses for his kid. That's what dads do. Trust me when I tell you she _can_ help it. She's twenty years old for crying out loud."

"But-"

"But nothing. I'm not going to sit here and let you beat yourself up. You don't have to take it from her anymore. It's okay to move on."

"She's my sister. How do I move on?"

"You start by accepting that she's not going to change, at least not any time soon."

Lily didn't want to accept that, because there was always a chance, wasn't there? But even if she did, there had been too many harsh words spoken, too many years lost between them. Their relationship would be permanently altered, even in the best of circumstances.

"Then what?" she asked.

"Then, the few times a year you do have to see her, you keep your distance. Don't talk to her. If she starts messing with you, walk away."

Lily got choked up again, and grabbed for a napkin. "This isn't how it's supposed to be."

James pried the napkin from her clenched hand, and wiped away her tears. "Maybe not," he said softly, "but it's the way it is. The sooner you accept it, the better you'll feel. You're a witch, and she isn't. That's all there is to it, and after everything is said and done, you tried, Lily. You really did."

She rested her head on his shoulder and he pulled her close, kissing her on the head. No matter how hopeless she felt before, no matter how lost, James was her constant, and the only one that could make her troubles seem surmountable. He believed in her, and loved her, even when she felt undeserving, and that was no small thing.

"You have your own life," he went on, his hand stroking her hair, "apart from her, filled with so many good things and people who care about you. And you have such a bright future waiting for you. Focus on that, now. Not on someone intent on holding you back."

"Thank you… for putting up with me."

"You put up with me every day," he replied. "Besides, I don't consider it putting up with you. I love you, and I always want to be there for you. Even when things fall apart."

Just when Lily thought she was done crying for the night, the tears were back, and with them, the fiercest love her heart had ever felt.

"You didn't deserve the way they treated you tonight," she said. "They had no right to speak to you that way. Their disregard for you is enough for me to wash my hands of them."

"Don't worry about me. I have a thick skin, except when it comes to you."

Lily looked up at him and said, "I hope you know how much I love you. And how much I truly _like_ you, as well."

James felt his own eyes warm with tears. "I feel the same way about you. And I always will."

After a heartfelt kiss, they finished their late night supper, and seeing Filch moving through the castle on the map, they decided not to take a detour into a secret chamber or broom cupboard. Instead, they returned to the common room, and chatted with their friends a while before turning in for the night.

Lily climbed under her covers and felt peace settle over her; the whirlwind of sorrow and regret which had been crushing her earlier was replaced with a comforting warmth. Her broken heart, while still sore, had been pieced back together by James Potter's loving words. Her sister would always judge her, and even disappoint her, but Lily would no longer feel guilty for being herself.

 


	4. Veritas

Johnny B. rose at five AM the following Saturday, greeted by darkness and the steady breathing of his roommates. Matthew's flight to Sydney was leaving at half seven. Lily was gutted she couldn't go along to say goodbye, but she had a meeting with the prefects after breakfast and couldn't risk missing it. Alice offered to cover for him, and for Annabelle and Sirius, who were going with him. Should anyone ask, she would say they had to eat and run because they had an assignment to finish. They planned to be back at the castle by nine o'clock, maybe a little later. Quidditch practice was at ten, and afterwards, they had loads of work to do, so Alice would only be telling a small lie.

He was the first one in the common room, and he slouched in a chair by the fire. The day he was dreading had arrived, despite his best efforts to will time to slow down. He was used to going two or three weeks without seeing Matthew, but after Matthew learned about his magical abilities, Johnny B. no longer had to pretend he was travelling a long distance to visit him, and managed to floo down to London more frequently. Johnny B. knew how to apparate, but Sydney was so far, and with the demands of N.E.W.T.s and the increasing mania over Voldemort, he didn't think he'd be able to visit often. The heaviness in his chest almost pulled him to his knees.

Annabelle came down the stairs and joined him by the fire.

"How're you feeling?" she asked.

He glanced at her, unable to be cheerful. "Been better."

"Time will fly. And in the meantime, you've got us to distract you."

He smiled weakly. "Thanks, Annie. I know."

When Sirius arrived, he checked the map, and they discreetly made their way to the vacant part of the castle, to the room with the fireplace that held the portal to adventure. It was the first time they'd used the floo since the previous spring, and Johnny B. had a fleeting fear that it wouldn't work, that Filch or Dumbledore might have discovered the connection and severed it.

Much to everyone's relief, it did work, and they ended up in the Leaky Cauldron, nodding at the night caretaker whose primary purpose it was to clean and tend to checkouts for any guests that might be trying to skip out on their bill.

"Morning," Sirius said, nodding to the woman. "You don't have to get up, we'll let ourselves out."

She eyed them suspiciously, but said nothing. The Leaky Cauldron was the main gateway into London, and many wizards came through on their way to work so they could stop in Diagon Alley for a newspaper or a cup of coffee or tea from Rosa Lee's teashop. It was, after all, the best cuppa in Britain, although Johnny B. preferred his mum's. Even so, they were quite early, and young enough to raise eyebrows, but the caretaker had no business stopping them.

They met Matthew at his family's house in Hampstead, telling Mr. and Mrs. Harris that they'd stayed with Sirius' family overnight so they could see Matthew off. Johnny B. could tell that even pretending to visit his former family made Sirius uncomfortable, but it wasn't like it was true. After a tearful goodbye between Matthew and his parents, and one of his three brothers who had come home from uni for the occasion, they headed to the underground station. Matthew had a giant rucksack - it was almost as big as him - and another, smaller bag. That was all he was taking, claiming that the less he took, the less hindered he'd be. Johnny B. felt a tightness in his chest, and wished he could be unhindered, as well.

"Are you excited, Matty?" Annabelle asked as they waited for the train, trying to lighten the sombre mood.

"A bit," he replied, but his stooped shoulders and sad expression told a different story.

When the train pulled into the station, they were pleased to find it uncrowded, as the rush hour had yet to pick up. Johnny B. and Matthew sat side by side, holding hands, and doing their best to remain optimistic, but failing miserably.

"This is a Cat's Eye Shell," said Johnny B., putting a small, shiny, green and black shell into Matthew's palm. "Take it, carry it with you. Some people think they're good for protecting against evil."

"I'm going to Australia, not Mordor," Matthew replied, referencing some muggle book about wizards and magical creatures. Johnny B. had tried to read it, but couldn't get into it.

"I'm a wizard. We're superstitious by nature. Humour me, all right?"

"I don't have to go," Matthew said. "Really. I can work at my dad's until you finish school, then we can go somewhere together."

"No," Johnny B. said, shaking his head. "You can't waste nine months of your life on my account."

"It wouldn't be a waste-"

"This was your plan well before I came along, and you've been looking forward to it. Don't change your mind on whim. You'll regret it."

"But I hadn't expected to find you. You're not a whim."

Johnny B. tightened his grip on Matthew's hand. He'd lost count of the number of times Matthew told him he wanted to wait for him, and Johnny B. almost gave in. Truthfully, he was desperate for him to stay, but it was best that he go.

"I'll still be here when you get back. And I already told you, I'll visit you as soon as I get a chance." That was, if he could figure out the best way to get there without getting himself lost or splinched.

Matthew's brows knitted, and he turned his gaze to the floor.

"Come on, Matty," said Johnny B. "If it's awful, you can always leave, but you'll probably love it, so..."

Matthew nodded, his big blue eyes sparkling with tears. He held onto Johnny B.'s hand with both of his, and said in a quiet voice, "Before you came along, I was sure I'd be alone, forever. Not _alone_ alone, but you know what I mean."

"I do," said Johnny B. Matthew wasn't the only one who'd been surprised by their connection. Johnny B. knew all too well what it was like to watch his mates start dating girls, actually finding what they didn't even know they were longing for, and wondering if he'd be waiting forever for someone to love. Someone that would love him back. Matthew had been more than he ever expected. More than he knew was possible.

It wasn't long before they realised they were falling in love. And not that Johnny B. had anyone to compare him to, but Merlin, Matthew could kiss. Sometimes, it was torture not to kiss him in public, but right then, just hugging Matthew close to him on the train was earning him a few disdainful looks from other passengers. Johnny B. didn't care about people's opinions of him, but he worried about Matthew being defenceless against an attack - some people used violence to force their ignorance on others - so he usually held off on public displays of affection.

But, as soon as they were alone, whether it be in Matthew's room or a darkened cinema, or even a quiet mews or alleyway, shrouded in the dark of night, they were like magnets, touching and kissing until their lips were sore, searching for a way to hold on, to get under each other's skin. Every kiss was the last they might ever share, every touch an urgent goodbye, until a sound of footsteps, the cough of a passerby, or a snicker, broke the spell between them, forcing them apart.

Now, he would be alone, again. His fear was that Matthew would meet someone else, someone without magic - a muggle more like Matthew himself - and he'd slowly change his mind about Johnny B. Matthew said he wouldn't be able to look at another guy, that the thought of kissing anyone else sickened him, and he admitted to Johnny B. that he was afraid he'd come back to find that Johnny B. had moved on. It would be so much harder for Matthew, because he would have no way of finding him again, being that he was a wizard who could hide in plain sight. Johnny B. had laughed at that; no one else was even _out_ at Hogwarts, let alone as special as Matthew, but he had been distraught, so Johnny B. assured him he had nothing to worry about. There would be no one else like him, ever again, Johnny B. was sure.

"I love you, Johnny. Don't forget."

Johnny B. pulled Matthew's head to his chest, and for a fleeting moment, forgot to worry about onlookers. "I love you, too. And don't you forget either."

They switched trains at Leicester Square and settled in for the second leg of their journey. Sirius dozed on Annabelle's shoulder, and Annabelle kept sneaking peeks at Matthew and Johnny B. They were on the other side of the doors from where she and Sirius sat, and seeing how miserable they were, she wondered why Matthew was going to Sydney at all. He certainly didn't seem excited about it, and the way they were clinging to each other make her heart hurt.

An older man sat beside her, muttering under his breath and pulling her from her thoughts.

"They're takin' over, these feckin' fairies," he grumbled, then glanced at Annabelle. "Know what I mean?"

Her skin went icy. "No, I don't know what you mean."

"Right over there," he said, like it was obvious, nodding toward Johnny B. and Matthew.

Her eyes flashed with indignation. He didn't even know the boys, but decided to judge them anyway, and for what? Because they were hugging each other? Was hugging illegal now?

"They're not fairies, they're lads," she replied. "But I'm afraid _you_ might be a _troll_."

The man opened his paper with a snap, blew out a sharp breath, and went back to minding his own business. Annabelle was relieved when he alighted after only two stops. She rested her head on top of Sirius's and closed her eyes.

Soon, they reached the end of the line, and they took a bus the rest of the way to the airport. They waited while Matthew checked in for his flight, and when he was done, they pulled out their identification cards – Matthew's real, the others' fake – created by the boys from one they'd found on the floor of Moore's pub two years prior. They had made the girls their own months before, just in case they ever needed one. The charms they had used were so simple and foolproof, that they'd joked if they ever needed to make a fast muggle quid, they could go into the fake ID business.

They walked through the terminal, too engrossed in their surroundings to talk. Matthew and Annabelle had been to airports before, but for Johnny B. and Sirius, it was fascinating - the muggles and their suitcases, the way they all had to wait for a set time to travel somewhere, boarding a giant contraption that they somehow figured out how to make fly.

When they got to Matthew's gate, Annabelle and Matthew went to ask if the plane was departing on time, while Sirius and Johnny B. went straight to the enormous window that looked out over the runway. There was the aeroplane, waiting for people to board. In the distance, they could see other planes taking off and landing. Johnny B. felt like a kid again, but instead of being wowed by a new charm or magic sweet, it was the muggles causing him to gape in awe.

"Shite," said Sirius, his mouth hanging open. "You couldn't pay me to ride inside one of those."

Johnny B. whispered, "Matthew has to ride on two different ones for twenty-two hours."

"Poor muggles," said Sirius. "What a crazy, inconvenient way to get from here to there. Twenty-two hours in a giant, uncharmed, flying box."

"They really are quite safe," said Annabelle, joining them at the window. "He's going to be fine."

Matthew had taken a seat by the boarding gate, and Johnny B. went to wait with him, but Sirius couldn't tear himself away from the window.

"How did they figure out how to get it in the air?" he asked.

"I haven't a clue. But it took decades to get them to work as well as these."

Sirius shook in head in wonder. "They don't give up easily, do they?"

"No, they don't."

"Still, I'd hate to be in one that crashes."

"Merlin, Sirius, let's not talk about crashes when Matty is about to fly halfway across the world on one."

"Sorry. I reckon these muggles know what they're doing."

Soon it was time for Matthew to go. He hugged Annabelle first, holding on like it was the last time they would ever see each other. Tears ran down their cheeks.

"I just found you, again, and now you're leaving," said Annabelle.

Matthew sniffled and said, "I'm just a letter away. Promise you'll write often."

"I promise."

He hugged Sirius next, and Annabelle was moved when Sirius gave him a strong hug back. It had taken Sirius time to warm up to Matthew, but that was how Sirius was. His trust wasn't easy to earn, but once you had it, you had his friendship and unwavering loyalty, as well.

Finally, Matthew turned to Johnny B., whose frown and shimmering eyes made it difficult for Annabelle to look at him.

Sirius took her hand and whispered, "Let's wait over here."

They walked away, but not too far in case anyone decided to give Johnny B. and Matthew any trouble.

"This is crazy," said Annabelle, trying to regain her composure. "They can't go without each other for that long. He shouldn't go away, not now."

"Johnny B. wants him to go," said Sirius. "He wants him to be safe."

"Safe?"

"From Voldemort."

"He told you that?"

"He told me last night. Australia's one of the few places Voldemort hasn't been active. That they know of, anyway."

"Did he tell Matty that?"

"No, and he's not going to, either. Matthew can't know, Annie. We've already taken a risk by letting him know about magic. Telling him about Voldemort would be cruel, since he'd feel powerless to protect his mates and to defend himself."

The realisation that Voldemort was ultimately responsible for her friends' misery made her stomach twist.

"And Voldemort's followers would like nothing better than to target a muggle with a wizard boyfriend," she said.

"And vice versa," said Sirius. "It's best he goes, and hopefully, by the time he comes back, this mess will be over."

Annabelle glanced over to Johnny B. and Matthew. They held each other, their faces buried in each other's shoulders, Matthew's hand planted on Johnny B.'s head. Then they kissed one last time, despite the gawking public, before separating. Matthew passed through the gate, giving one last wave as he disappeared from view.

Johnny B. stood rooted to the floor, his hands over his eyes and his back to Annabelle and Sirius. Annabelle hurried to him, pulling his hands down and embracing him. He rested his head against hers and quietly wept.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

At 9:00 sharp, in the Transfiguration classroom, James and Lily began their second prefect meeting of the year. Their first meeting had gone well, except for a few Slytherin prefects whispering and generally being childish. This morning, however, Professor McGonagall was in attendance, which struck Lily as strange. Usually the head girl and boy ran meetings without an adviser looking on. She figured one of the prefects must have complained about the Slytherins' rudeness, so Professor McGonagall decided to drop in just to make sure everything was running smoothly. Mona Nott, a fifth year prefect, rolled her eyes and started tapping her abnormally pointy nails on a desk. She was awfully bold for someone new to the job. Then again, snide attitudes were seemingly a prerequisite for being a Slytherin.

Lily ignored her and handed a parchment to a Hufflepuff prefect. "Please sign-in, and then we'll get started.

"What a waste of time," Alecto Carrow muttered.

Professor McGonagall stiffened. "Did you say something, Miss Carrow?"

"No, ma'am, I did not." She and Mona snickered, covering their mouths. Even Delilah Burke, who didn't seem as depraved as some of her fellow Slytherins, grinned faintly, but Lily figured she was playing both sides of the fence in order to avoid conflict.

After introductions, James cleared his throat. "All right, let's get to it," he said, pushing up his sleeves as he looked down at his notes. "First thing - curfews are to be enforced. When doing your evening rounds, make sure all fourth-years and below are in their dorms by eight PM. We've been told there were too many younger students in the corridors after their curfew over the last few days."

James felt like an arse relaying that information; being Head Boy had made him a hypocrite.

"Second, the undercroft, and any vacant, locked rooms are off limits to students at all times. Anyone caught in the undercroft or anywhere they aren't supposed to be will be punished with points and privileges being taken away, to be determined by your head of house."

"What is the big deal about the undercroft?" Mona piped up, a sneer in her voice. "It's just an empty cellar."

Lily cocked her head. "What reason would one have to go in there?"

"How should I know," said Mona, getting defensive. "Maybe for some peace and quiet?"

"That's what the library is for," said Lily. "Moving on…"

As she spoke, Mona rolled her eyes again, and put her head down on her arms. The nails of one hand began tapping again.

"Just a moment, Miss Evans," said Professor McGonagall, holding up a hand. Lily nodded and folded her hands in front of herself. "Miss Nott," the professor continued, "your behaviour is unbecoming of a prefect. Please, sit up, and pay attention."

Mona jolted upright, her eyes bugging out of her head, and Alecto burst out laughing. Professor McGonagall sent them a stern look, and they begrudgingly cooperated.

"As I was saying," Lily continued, her cheeks burning, "whenever you are in the library, please do a walk-through to make sure students are following the rules. If you see any students giving Madam Wigworthy a hard time, please report the incident to that student's head of house."

"These are the new reporting forms," said James, passing them out to the prefects. "They're for any minor infraction. Duelling or fighting must be reported immediately to the nearest staff member."

Alecto swiped hers out of his hand, and he paused, ready to tell her off, but Lily coughed and he moved on. Lloyd Gibbon, a Ravenclaw prefect, took his graciously and said with a lisp, "Thank you. I highly appreciate it."

Hi-wee ap _prith_ iate is what it sounded like, and James wasn't sure if the kid was trying to be funny or if he really talked that way.

"Finally," said Lily, "The taking of house points must be done with appropriate documentation. Last year, there were apparently complaints of prefects abusing this power, and we've already received one complaint this year. If it continues, prefects will no longer be allowed to take points."

Neal Rosier, a fifth-year Slytherin prefect and Evan Rosier's younger brother, raised his hand.

"Yes?" said Lily.

"There were also complaints last year of the head boy and girl falsely blaming certain prefects for events that were out of their control. Will you two be required to provide appropriate documentation when _you_ want to accuse one of _us_ of not doing our jobs properly?"

"Oh my god, be quiet," murmured Gloria Henderson.

"No, you be quiet," Neal shot back.

Neal hadn't even been a prefect the year before, so it was no mystery who put him up to that question. James would have laughed if the kid wasn't the spitting image of his spooky brother.

"No, Rosier," he said, "we're going to ignore protocol, make new rules up as we go along, go mad with power, and basically take you all down with us." Neal scowled, and Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, so James amended his statement. "If you're purposely mucking up at your job, of course we're going to document it. Happy?"

"This is a joke," said Alecto. "We shouldn't have to tolerate your condescending attitude."

"Then don't act like petulant, rude children at a prefect meeting," said Remus.

"Shut up, arse-licker. Of course you don't have a thing to worry about. You're a holier-than-thou Gryffindork, just like this pair of buffoons," she said, nodding toward James and Lily.

"You don't know when to quit, do you?" said Remus. "It's tiresome."

"That will be quite enough out of you, Miss Carrow," snapped Professor McGonagall. "Need I remind you that you are in your sixth-year, and if you can't be an example of proper conduct, then someone with more maturity will be happy to take your place."

"But it's unfair for them to be in the same house!" she shouted. "That's an imbalance of power!"

"Head girl and boy are _facilitators_. They do not make the rules, they only enforce them, as do prefects. Now this is your last chance, Miss Carrow, to settle down. Your insolence will not be tolerated."

Alecto glared at Professor McGonagall, then jumped up, kicked her chair over, and ran from the room. McGonagall hurried to the door and could be heard in the hallway bellowing, "Report to my office, _IMMEDIATELY!"_

Neither came back to the meeting. James and Lily traded shocked looks, and James had to fight the urge to laugh at the crazy scene. A few of the Hufflepuffs were amused, but more in an incredulous sort of way, and the Ravenclaws appeared bored and irritated. The Gryffindors were disgusted.

"What a spectacle she made of herself," said Gloria, peering at the remaining Slytherins. "Hope you're all proud."

"Don't worry, we are," retorted Mona, and Gloria looked to Lily and James in a huff.

Lloyd Gibbon raised his hand.

"Yes?" asked Lily.

"I just want you to know, I don't mind that you're both in Gryffindor."

"Oh… well, that's good to know." Lily wasn't sure if he was joking either.

"Alecto's a perfect example of how money can't buy class," he continued, his croaky pre-pubescent voice giving her the beginnings of a headache.

"Thank you, Lloyd. Now, moving on…"

Without her partner in crime, Mona stayed quiet. Lily and James wrapped things up, and reminded everyone that if they ran into any problems, to feel free to speak to them about it. After a brief question and answer period, where Lloyd asked Lily nearly twenty questions, they ended the meeting.

"I'll see you later," Remus said to them. "I'm helping Claire with an Arithmancy assignment."

"Okay, see you," replied Lily.

"Lloyd Gibbon was chatting you up," said James, as he and Lily strolled back to Gryffindor tower.

"Jealous?"

"You know it," he said, swinging an arm round her shoulder. She took his hand and held it, and slipped other her arm around his waist, leaning into him as they walked.

"And Alecto Carrow is officially off her trolley," James went on. "How the hell did she get to be a prefect?"

"Mona wasn't thrilled with us, either," said Lily. "I thought she might hex me just for saying the undercroft was off-limits."

"Let's see… a dark, musty cellar and site of an attempted murder… She probably wanted to move in, the bloody lunatic."

Lily laughed, but even though he was joking, she detected an edge to his voice. With the trouble the Slytherin prefects had just caused for them, on top of the years of animosity between the Gryffindors and Slytherins, all she could do was hope that James' position as head boy would stop him from being sucked into the conflict. But knowing James, she wouldn't count on it.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Sirius, Annabelle, and Johnny B. decided to stop for breakfast at a little café on Charing Cross Road before returning to the castle. Sirius picked up a newspaper before heading inside, always curious to see what troubles the muggles were dealing with. They sat down in the back of the restaurant, an air of mourning hanging between them, and the conversation limited to comments on the menu, and whether they had enough muggle money to pay. None of them ate much, Johnny B. and Annabelle because they were upset, and Sirius, because muggle food never tasted quite right to him. Annabelle said he was imagining that, but the café they were in didn't look like the cleanest, and muggles used their hands quite a bit to cook.

"Look at this," he said, pointing to an article in the paper. "Twenty-one people died in Thornmeath yesterday due to a massive explosion in a slate quarry."

"Doesn't Thornmeath have a lot of magical families hidden in its hills?" asked Annabelle.

"Professor Crowden lives there," said Johnny B., referring to the Muggle Studies professor. "Rumour has it her husband is a muggle."

Sirius chewed his upper lip as he looked at them, and Annabelle's eyes widened. "You think it might have been-"

"Let's pick up a paper in Diagon Alley to be sure."

Once they were back at Hogwarts, they stayed in the vacant room with the fireplace to check the Daily Prophet for a matching story. Sure enough, tucked away near the back of the paper was a tiny article, so small that Annabelle wondered if it had been sneaked in there by some daring copy editor.

Sirius read it aloud. "Thornmeath - Twenty-one muggles killed yesterday in slate quarry blast. Intelligence says the Dark Lord and his devotees responsible."

"Merlin," said Johnny B., his head bowed in dismay.

"It's starting to feel real again," said Annabelle. "It hasn't for a while, and I guess I hoped he was running out of steam."

Sirius tried to stay collected for Annabelle's sake, but he was worried. Voldemort's activity seemed to wax and wane, not adhering to any kind of order. Summer had been full of reports - strange weather occurrences that left muggles injured or dead - like he was sending a warning to the Ministry: "Look what I can do." Even the river behind James' house has risen to unnatural levels, rapidly destroying muggle homes all along its banks, before the Auror Department returned the levels to normal.

But ever since school started, they hadn't heard much, and it was easy to develop a false sense of security. Frank Longbottom had warned them that a lull in Voldemort's activity usually meant he was gearing up for something big. An explosion in a slate quarry was tragic, but Sirius had a feeling that twenty-one people was a small number to a murderous lunatic. He suddenly wished he could send all of his friends to Australia.

"You did the right thing, convincing Matthew to go away," he said to Johnny B., "Voldemort's focused on Britain lately, so that should buy Australia some time."

Johnny B. gave a small nod, and said, "I think it's time for Quidditch practice."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

When the team entered the common room after practice, Lily and Alice were seated at a study table looking downcast, while other students gathered round the wireless.

"Did you hear?" Alice asked, her voice stricken. "Professor Crowden's husband died in a quarry explosion."

Annabelle gasped. Was it a coincidence? Or had Voldemort purposely sought out the well-loved Professor's husband, knowing he worked in the quarry?

"They think that beast was responsible… I can't even bring myself to say his name," said Lily, her eyes brimming with tears.

"Come listen," said Nico.

The radio was tuned to "Veritas," an underground broadcast that specialised in calling out government corruption. Annabelle had listened to it occasionally when she had the chance, but the Ministry hid their underhandedness so well that there was little to report, and the programme was often cut short. The remaining time was usually filled with muggle punk rock records.

The hosts called themselves Mercury and Lux, presumed to be members of the resistance, and it was said that Ministry officials were going mad trying to catch them and stop the broadcast, but the pair had managed to elude them for years by distorting their voices and giving no clue as to their location. They were currently reporting breaking news:

"This morning, an aircraft carrying 250 people on board, caught fire immediately after take-off and exploded on the runway. All passengers and flight personnel are presumed dead."

" _It exploded?_ " Annabelle shrieked as Johnny B. gripped her arm, backing away from the radio.

"Yeah," said Edmund Kittle. "It took off from Glasgow, headed to Prague."

Johnny B. coughed out a sob and bent over, resting his hands on his knees for support.

"Matthew's safe," breathed Annabelle. She swallowed painfully. "But god, all those people."

"This psycho's on a roll," said James, shaking his head.

The broadcast continued: "Our source at the ministry confirms it was an act of Voldemort. Witches and wizards are warned to be vigilant, and to stay away from large crowds. Minister Minchum has stated that the Ministry will now be enforcing The Trace, after years of disregard, telling anyone under seventeen not to practice magic outside of school. The Ministry claims they are hoping to cut back on young people committing copycat crimes."

Annabelle had never been so happy to be seventeen.

"The absurdity of this rule should be obvious," said Lux. "That's right, ladies and gentleman, this is a war, and your Minister of Magic is now cracking down the use of underage magic, at a time when everyone of school age should be free to use their skills, not only to defend themselves, but to prevent themselves from becoming targets, which includes casting protective charms _before_ finding themselves confronted with a Death Eater."

"Should they really be encouraging kids to use magic on Death Eaters?" asked Peter.

"Shh!" Sirius scolded him, listening closely.

"We, Mercury and Lux, would like to personally advise you keep your wands close," continued Mercury. "Don't be fooled by the ministry's attempts to downplay these gruesome acts, or to scare you from raising the alarm. Word must spread if people are to be prepared. Lord Voldemort, as he vainly named himself, is not solely a conservative politician with a preference for blood purity. He is a power-hungry killer, and he will not stop until all of his detractors are silenced, no matter what blood flows through their veins. Until next time, this is Mercury and Lux, signing off."

The song "Psycho Killer," by the band Talking Heads started playing, signalling the end of the broadcast.

"First Thornmeath, then Glasgow," said Opal Ross, her face fearful. "Do you think he'll strike here, next?"

"Looks like he's going after muggles right now," said Caradoc, a muggleborn, but everyone knew that anyone who stood in his way was fair game. "I cast a Cross-Me-Not barrier on my family's house this summer and buried Devil's Shoestring Root round the perimeter, just in case."

"So did I," said Gloria.

"So did we," said Lily, remembering the night in July when she and Annabelle sneaked out to cast protective wards on the Evans' home. They had to wait until four in the morning to be as sure as possible that the neighbours wouldn't notice the two girls chanting in Latin and scattering roots into the ground they'd just dug up with the Gouging Spell. Lily had planned to tell her parents about the Dark Lord, but changed her mind. They would be helpless and terrified, if they even believed it. She saw no point in scaring them over something she hoped would be over soon.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Before dinner, Dumbledore held an assembly in the Great Hall. He mentioned the passing of Professor Crowden's husband, and went on to address the muggle tragedies of the last two days. Sirius wondered if he would spin it as a coincidence, just to keep panic from ensuing, but much to his surprise, he named Voldemort as the wizard behind the disasters, and cautioned the students to be wary of any unseemly activities. Any and all tips would be investigated, including anonymous ones.

"Does he think there's death eaters here?" squeaked Peter.

James shrugged. "Maybe he does. I wouldn't put it past Voldemort to cover his bases and recruit students."

"We, as a magical community, come from a variety of dynamic backgrounds," he said. "We mustn't allow one deranged wizard's ideals cloud our ethics. To be clear - there are no requirements to be a witch or a wizard except to possess magical abilities." Then in a deep, slow voice, he said, "I hope I have made myself understood."

"That's a message to those Slytherin fuckwits," whispered James.

Annabelle looked across to the Slytherins. Some of them looked as anxious as everyone else, a few looked bored, and a few looked… _amused_. The Carrow siblings, especially.

Sirius rubbed Annabelle's back as Dumbledore told them that measures were being taken to assist the Aurors in their hunt for Voldemort, and reminded them to remain calm - that extra precautions were already in place at Hogwarts. He ended with a warning that no one was to leave the castle grounds, under any circumstance, except for Hogsmeade visits.

When he was done, the food appeared on the table, but a few minutes passed before anyone touched it. The mood in the Great Hall was grim; students from every house spoke in low voices, their postures tense, apprehension in their eyes. Annabelle felt the first flutterings of panic form in her chest.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

That evening, they stayed up late, talking to each other to avoid being alone with their thoughts. Annabelle remained contemplative, trying to keep her nerves under control. Peter kept going on about what he would do if Voldemort attacked Hogwarts, saying he'd run for the Forbidden Forest or hide in the priest hole in the undercroft, or he'd just play dead.

"Enough, Pete," said Sirius. "You can't say what you'd do, because you can't predict how he'll strike next."

"And that's why I'm coming up with ideas," he sneered back. "So I'm prepared for anything."

Sirius whispered to Annabelle, "Notice his version of being prepared doesn't include fighting back."

"I doubt he'll attack Hogwarts," said James. "Dumbledore is too powerful."

"So is Voldemort," said Peter.

All the what-ifs were just making Annabelle more uneasy. She hated that there was nothing they could do, no real way of resisting or standing up to Voldemort and his Death Eaters. All they could do was attempt to focus on their studies, hold their breath, and hope they could defend themselves if need be. Dumbledore said the castle was safe, but how could he be sure that Voldemort wouldn't find a way to overcome the wards placed on the castle, or have his followers do his dirty work for him from inside?

When a dark wizard took her grandfather's life, she'd been too young, too ill-informed to understand. Now, it was happening again, except this time she wanted to fight. She couldn't allow another dark wizard to take another person she loved.

"We need to do something," she said. "Like Mercury and Lux. They're trying to get the truth out there. They're not sitting idly by while the world falls apart around them."

"We might have a few wannabe Death Eaters right here," said James. "So maybe we _can_ do something."

"No," said Lily. "You are not taking it upon yourselves to catch Death Eaters. You see what they're capable of!"

"Which is precisely why they have to be stopped," said Sirius.

Lily was adamant. "If you discover them, you must report them to Dumbledore, so he can report them to the Auror department. You don't try to stop them yourselves."

"Lily's right," said Remus. "Let the professionals handle them. Unless they attack us. Then, what other choice is there?"

"Do I need to go through the options again?" asked Peter.

"Let me talk to Frank," said Alice, ignoring Peter. "See what he thinks about all of this. We can't become vigilantes until we know what we're really dealing with. Now, part of remaining alert means getting a full night's sleep, so I'm off to bed. Night, guys."

"I'm off, too," said Remus.

It wasn't long before everyone turned in for the night.

"You going to be okay?" Sirius asked Annabelle.

"Yeah, I think so."

"You could always sleep with me," he said. "Just to keep each other company."

She gave her usual response, "It's not proper," but it sounded mechanical, like her heart wasn't in it.

"I'll leave the door open a crack, if you change your mind."

"Should you really be leaving your door unlocked?"

"Annie, a locked door isn't going to stop Voldemort."

"Right," she said, blinking hard and giving her head a quick shake. "Of course it wouldn't."

She hugged him, not wanting to let him go, then drifted up to her room. Once she was in bed, she heard her roommates' breathing grow steady, but she lay awake, her heart pounding in her ears. The wind was picking up outside and the shrill sound howled at the windows. The day felt like an eerie dream, and she thought of Matthew, probably catching his connecting flight in Singapore, about to start the second half of his journey to a place that had so far been spared from Voldemort's wrath. She hoped he would be safe, and not come home to find things altered beyond recognition.

Tears stung her eyes as she thought of her friends - every single one of them considered disposable by Voldemort. So was she. In fact, being the granddaughter of the wizard who made a legacy out of fighting the same intolerance Voldemort embraced didn't bode well for her chances of survival, if he did indeed attack Hogwarts, which thankfully wasn't likely. Her friends, and her precious Sirius; they would be the first ones to run into the fray - excluding Peter, who would be playing dead- and she couldn't stomach the thought of what would happen then. She felt herself trembling, wishing it was all a bad dream, as dread gripped her. She sat up and tried to breathe deeply, but she couldn't - she was becoming frantic.

Just when she thought she might pull her hair out in panic, she got out of bed. Shrouding herself in her invisibility cloak, she slipped out of the room, gently pulling the door shut behind her.

The boys' door was ajar, just as Sirius said it would be. In the darkness, she found her way by stove light to Sirius' bed. Lightening illuminated the room for a second, and then, as though a switch had been flipped, the rain began, heavy and loud. A clap of thunder rattled the walls, causing Annabelle to jump. Sirius' bed curtains were closed, so to avoid startling him, she pulled off the cloak and drew the curtain back a bit.

"Sirius?" she whispered.

He rolled over, a sleepy groan escaping him. "Annie?" he said hoarsely.

"Yeah."

He sat up and pulled the curtain back further. "Come," he said, offering her his hand.

She climbed onto his bed and sat next to him, her legs crossed and her shoulders hunched. He shut the curtain, then lit the tip of his wand so he could see her better.

Her face was pale and her eyes wide, like a child after a nightmare. He knew she must be in a state to come to his bed when the lads were there.

Stroking her hair back from her face, he asked, "What's the story?"

"Couldn't sleep," she replied, forcing a feeble half-smile.

"You came to the right place."

She stared at him, the fear in her expression palpable. Her silence spoke volumes.

He put his arms around her. "Come here, Annie."

She curled up with him, their limbs weaving together as they lay down. He could feel her pulse pounding as he ran his palm over her neck. Her grip on his arm was fierce, as though she feared he would be ripped away at any moment by some unseen force. He took a deep breath to steady himself.

"It's going to be okay," he said.

"It's not going to be okay for Professor Crowden, or all those families of the dead."

"No, it's not, but maybe now the Ministry will admit what they're up against. He won't stand a chance now."

"Do you believe what James said, about Voldemort recruiting students?"

"Anything's possible," said Sirius. "There's several students I can think of whose families support the poison he spews."

Annabelle shuddered, and Sirius pulled the blankets over them, even though he knew she wasn't shaking from the cold.

"I hate being afraid."

"We're all afraid, Annie. But, we can't cower, or he wins."

"I know. It's just that I can't help thinking of all we have to lose."

He understood that, as well. Sirius had never had much to lose until he came to Hogwarts. Now, his whole world was at risk.

"That means we have a lot to fight for, yeah? So we mustn't panic. We have to focus on being prepared. Professor MacMillan is already helping in that regard, and as for student Death Eaters, I think we could handle them if we had to."

She nodded against his chest. Some moments passed where neither spoke, the sound of their breathing filling the closed space. He was glad she came to him; he felt better with her in his arms, like the horrors of the world couldn't touch them, as long as they were together.

"Just try to get some sleep," he said.

She placed a kiss below his ear, and when he felt her warm tears on his neck, he wiped her cheeks with his sleeve and kissed her forehead. She looked up at him, placing a palm on the side of his head, and he pressed his lips to hers in a gentle kiss. Soon after, she burrowed her head into his neck, clinging to him as her body slowly gave in to sleep. It took him a while, but he followed, his arms never leaving her, her presence a calming hush inside the growing storm.

 


	5. Dirty

On Thursday morning, Sirius and Annabelle sat together inside one of the middle courtyard arches, passing the time until Transfiguration. They had just experienced an intense Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson, in which Professor MacMillan began a unit on casting a Patronus. Apparently, it was the first time the charm had been taught at Hogwarts since the year 1525, when a group of rogue Dementors went about terrorising the countryside. It was an extremely advanced charm which many witches and wizards were incapable of casting, but Professor MacMillan said it was an important one to at least attempt to learn, especially during a time of war, since it could be used to send messages.

"James cast one two summers ago," said Sirius. "Scared the shite out of him."

"How?"

"Just read up on it and practised a lot. I couldn't be bothered."

But that wasn't the entire reason Sirius didn't cast one. The truth was, the situation at Grimmauld Place had been extra volatile at the time, and Sirius had so few extremely happy memories. Sure, he had memories of fun times with his mates and playing Quidditch, but focusing on one of them enough to produce a Patronus was a struggle, since they were clouded by hurt and fear, and the ever-present shame his parents had instilled in him.

"What was it?"

"A stag. He hasn't been able to do it again, though. He said it was the most difficult charm he's ever cast."

"I bet yours will be a dog," said Annabelle, having no doubt Sirius would master the charm.

He opened a box of Bertie Botts Beans, one of several he'd purchased in Hogsmeade the previous weekend, and poured some into his palm. Hogsmeade may not have been the most happening of places, but at least he could stock up on his jelly beans. They never lasted past a week, no matter how many boxes he bought, because his roommates were thieves. He began sifting through them, picking out the marmalade and peppermint ones and passing them to Annabelle.

"You never know," he replied. "MacMillan said people are often wrong about their predictions."

Annabelle inspected an orange bean up close before eating it. "Yeah, but those people probably aren't Animagi."

"True. I wonder what yours will be."

"What if it's something awful, like a warthog or a buzzard?"

Sirius laughed. "Be real, Annie. He said it will be the animal you relate to the most. I hardly think you relate to warthogs and buzzards."

Annabelle forced several hog-like grunts through her nose, and ended up in a coughing fit.

"See?" said Sirius, "You can't even imitate a warthog properly, let alone relate to one."

She giggled and analysed another orange bean. Dominica had told everyone she'd bought a box in Hogsmeade that contained only the terrible flavours. Sirius suspected she was lying in order to get attention, but Annabelle wasn't taking any chances.

"This one might be earwax flavoured," she said, holding it up.

Sirius glanced at it and shook his head. "It's marmalade, I promise you."

Annabelle sent him a pleading look, so he begrudgingly plucked it from her fingers and took a tiny nibble.

"Just as I said - marmalade." He gave it back to her and she popped it into her mouth.

"Fucking _hell_ ," a voice rang out from inside the cloisters. Sirius and Annabelle turned to see Alecto Carrow and Mona Nott approaching. "Did you just eat something he had in his mouth?"

"So?" answered Annabelle. She didn't see what the big deal was, considering how frequently she and Sirius French-kissed each other.

"You are both so foul," said Mona, "perched up there like feral animals. Do you lick yourselves clean, as well?"

"No," replied Annabelle. "We lick each other clean." She wagged her eyebrows up and down. "Jealous?"

"Was just about to give Annabelle a bath now," Sirius chimed in. "You can watch if you'd like."

The girls glowered at them as they passed. "Nasty pigs," muttered Mona.

"We prefer _warthogs_ ," said Annabelle

Sirius let out a sharp laugh. "Or buzzards, even."

Miraculously, the girls kept walking, and disappeared into the dungeon stairwell without a word back. Maybe they had been taken off-guard when Sirius and Annabelle responded with humour instead of hate. Annabelle was relieved Sirius was laughing instead of fuming over their insults. Jokes seemed to be the best way to diffuse his anger, and she would have to remember that for future encounters with certain Slytherins.

"So… about that bath," he said, then leaned in and licked her neck.

"Sirius!" she squealed, wiping the spot with the sleeve of her robe, grinning all the while. "You are rather nasty, aren't you?"

"I'm absolutely filthy," he replied, brushing his nose against hers. "And you love it. Admit it."

She shoved a peppermint flavoured bean into his mouth, and stroked his hair. "Behave yourself, Padfoot, or no more treats for you."

They both seized with silent laughter, and Sirius pulled her down into the grass of the courtyard. Her hair was tousled and her eyes bright, and all he could think was there wasn't an animal amazing enough to be her Patronus. Before he could tell her so, she pulled his face to hers and kissed him, and his brain turned to jelly beans.

Eventually, Annabelle said, "You do realise, it's the middle of the day and we're sprawled out in the courtyard, snogging each other silly."

Sirius shrugged. "And your point is?"

As she pushed his hair back from his face, a corner of his mouth turned up in a half-smile. She almost forgot her point.

"How much time do we have?"

He looked at his watch. "About twenty minutes... What did you have in mind?"

She ran her hands down his hips. "I was thinking… maybe we could…" A smile slowly spread across her face as she put a finger to her chin, pretending to be deep in thought. A second later, she blurted out, "Finish the Daily Prophet crossword puzzle?"

He blinked once slowly, and a laugh forced its way out of him. "Too late," he replied, playing along. "I finished it last night."

"Well, that's a shame. I guess we'll have to carry on snogging each other silly then." They grinned at each other and just as he was about to kiss her again, giggles erupted from a group of third-years who had just sat down across the courtyard.

"Or maybe we could go somewhere more private," she suggested.

He scrambled to his feet and helped her up from the ground. "The secret tower it is."

They stumbled through the corridors, unable to keep their hands and lips off each other, but when they reached the first floor, they heard a commotion in the stairwell at the opposite end. Students had gathered on the landing, laughing and pointing, and more were running to join the crowd. Filch could be heard admonishing them to scram.

"Help!" a voice shrieked. "Please, anyone! Make it stop!"

The voice sounded familiar, and they pushed their way through to find Peter, clutching on to the railing of the up staircase, blinking hard and fast as he stared up at the flights above. Sweat and tears soaked his face, and he was gasping in terror. His books lay scattered about the floor.

"Get them away from me!" he screeched, and swiped an arm in front of himself, but there was nothing there. "God, what is happening?!"

"Merlin's bollocks," said Sirius, gazing at his friend in awe. "He's gone mad."

"He's been flailing about since I got here five minutes ago," said Filch. "Sent a student to alert a faculty member."

Peter dropped down almost to his knees, his hands still gripping the railing. "It's burning my neck… _It's burning my neck!_ The lake, I need to get to the lake!"

Sirius tried to step toward him, but Peter shot out an arm.

"Don't come near me, you hell hound! Please, I'm begging you! Go away!"

Sirius stepped back toward Annabelle. "What's the counter-spell for the Dementia Curse?"

"What's the Dementia Curse?" Annabelle asked, a hand over her mouth.

Peter raved on, drool spilling down his chin as he cried and batted at the air.

"Dark magic," said Sirius. "I think I remember. It's… _Claritus_. Worth a shot, anyway." He advised the onlookers to stand back, then aimed his wand at Peter. " _Claritus!"_

A jet of shimmering golden light hit Peter the forehead, causing him to jerk back onto the stairs. His sudden stillness caused Sirius and Annabelle to freeze in horror.

"Did I - did it - did it kill him?" Sirius breathed.

"Well done, Mr. Black," Dumbledore's voice boomed from behind them. Students stood aside as the headmaster approached the stairs. He checked Peter's pulse, listened to his heart, and then waved his hand around Peter's head as he chanted, _"Aperi oculos, animum libera."_

Peter opened his eyes and sat up, squinting in confusion at the students surrounding him. "What happened? Did I fall down the stairs?"

"Apparently someone cursed you with dementia. Your friend, Mr. Black, reversed it with the Clarity Charm just as I arrived. He was a bit heavy on the force," Dumbledore said with the hint of a smile and a side glance at Sirius. Sirius shoved his hands in pockets and lowered his head. He had been so eager to stop what was happening to Peter, he'd gone a bit overboard.

"Your mind was so clear you fell straight to sleep," Dumbledore continued. "But other than that, consider yourself of sound mind once again."

Peter looked to Sirius, and to the rest of the faces gawking back at him. Then he turned his gaze downward, his jaw tight.

Dumbledore seemed to sense Peter's embarrassment, and said, "Mr. Filch, please clear the students out of the stairwell. Classes are beginning shortly." As Filch herded the students away from the scene, Dumbledore asked Peter, "Tell me, son, do you know who did this to you?"

"I'd like to know the answer to that myself," said Sirius.

"No, sir," said Peter. "It was a sneak attack. I was walking back from a chess match and suddenly didn't know what was happening. It's like I didn't know who I was, or _what_ I was anymore. There were these beasts I don't even think exist, and they were coming at me, and I saw these shadows with knives for teeth all around me… they were laughing, and I felt like they wanted me dead."

Dumbledore shook his head in dismay. "I don't know why the ministry doesn't classify the curse as Unforgivable. They've been debating it for years, to no avail."

"Is it deadly?" Peter asked.

"The curse alone is not, but its potential effects can be extraordinarily lethal."

Annabelle considered the endless possibilities for disaster under the Dementia spell. Peter could have fallen down the stairs, or ran outside and straight into the lake, or even strangled one of the "shadows" and ended up killing a person by mistake. What a horrible curse, and even worse that she was just learning of it now.

"We didn't learn it in Defence Against the Dark Arts," said Annabelle.

Dumbledore pinched the bridge of nose and squeezed his eyes shut for a second.

"Yes, well, your education in that area has been lacking, I will admit. I'll speak to Professor MacMillan about introducing the curse, and any others which may have been omitted thus far."

Peter stood up and gathered his books and parchments, and they walked together into the corridor, but Dumbledore stopped and put a hand on Peter's shoulder.

"One moment, Mr. Pettigrew. Let me ask you this. Do you have any suspicions about who might have done this to you? Anyone, perchance, who may have a score of some kind to settle?"

Peter looked at the floor, then glanced sideways at Sirius, whose stoic face gave nothing away.

"No, sir," Peter replied. "I don't know who could have done this."

"Was there anyone nearby who might have witnessed the attack?"

"No. I didn't see anyone."

"Right. Well then, it's best you get to class. Please inform me if something occurs to you that might help us figure out who is responsible."

"Yes, sir. I will."

They watched as the headmaster hurried away. When he was out of ear-shot, Annabelle asked, "You don't think it was Amycus Carrow? Or Evan-"

"Of course I think it was them," snapped Peter. "It's always them. Always has been."

"Why didn't you tell Dumbledore?"

"Does it matter if I tell him?" Peter asked, his eyes growing wet. "No one else was about when it happened. They will deny it." He stalked off into the corridor, his arms hugging his books, but he hadn't got very far when he turned around. "And Dumbledore has to know already. Bloody hell, everybody knows about the grudge between us and them."

He walked away, and Annabelle turned to Sirius. "Do you think it was them?"

"Stranger things have happened."

_"_ _Lovely_ ," she replied. "Ought to be a grand Quidditch match against them on Saturday. I can't wait."

A tightness gripped Sirius' chest as the last match of the previous season flashed in his mind's eye. The bludger smashing into Annabelle's back, her plummeting through the air, thinking she might have died, and knowing Amycus Carrow had intended to harm her… it still haunted him.

"I doubt they'll strike when people are expecting them to," he said, taking her hand and walking toward Transfiguration. "And as Peter said, Dumbledore knows what they're like. He'll be there, and so will Madam Hooch and Madam Pomfrey."

"You're probably right. They're too devious to pull the same stunt twice."

"Exactly, but stay alert on Saturday, just in case. We all will."

"Of course," replied Annabelle. "Better safe than sorry."

Sirius sighed as they passed the entrance to the secret tower. "So much for our original plan."

Annabelle bumped her hip against his. "Later."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

After classes were over for the day, Lily dragged Alice to the Prefects' Bathroom with her. Everyone else was either studying, practising Quidditch, or napping, and Alice was just as eager to see the bathroom reserved for the Hogwarts' elite as Lily was.

"James said it's always occupied, but I figure it has to be open at some point."

Lily said the password and turned the knob. Again, it was locked.

"I bet people get up to all sorts of things in there," Alice said.

Lily stiffened. She recalled James' suggestion the last time she was there, and her curiosity got the better of her. "You really think so?"

"Sure. A room that automatically locks and can't be charmed to open from the outside? I bet there's people getting up to something in there as we speak."

"I doubt it. Anyone could be outside, waiting to catch them. Why would they risk it?"

"A cheap invisibility cloak costs round four galleons and two sickles. You think James and Annabelle are the only ones who have them?"

Voices approached from behind the door, and Lily and Alice bolted round a corner. They heard the door open, along with peals of laughter, and when they peeked out from behind the wall to catch a glimpse of the culprits, their eyes almost popped out of their heads. There was Remus, sauntering away in the opposite direction with Claire slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She was laughing and smacking his arse. Their hair was wet.

"Oh my word," said Lily.

Alice started shaking in silent laughter, falling back against the wall. Lily looked on, shocked, as the couple disappeared down an adjacent corridor, their voices growing distant.

"I told you so," said Alice, still laughing. "I just… I didn't expect _THAT!"_

"He would die if he knew we saw them - they both would."

"Can you imagine? We mustn't tell them."

"I'm just glad it was you I was with and not James. He would never let him live it down."

Alice stood up, attempting to calm down. "Our little Remus is growing up."

Lily gave her a shove, a laugh escaping her.

"You're not going to make an announcement at your next meeting, are you? ' _No shagging in the Prefects' Bathroom!'"_ She started giggling again.

"No, I suppose I shouldn't," Lily said, especially since she briefly considered taking James up on his offer to join him in there. She must have been temporarily insane. "Come on, let's have a look before some other couple locks themselves inside."

Surrounded by great stone pillars and archways, and more spacious than she imagined, the bathroom reminded Lily of the ancient Roman baths. The air was warm and sticky, dim torches provided the light, and it smelled like a rose garden. The tub was empty at the moment, but it was gleaming, not a smudge of dirt to be seen anywhere. She turned on one of the taps and the water came out in turquoise blue, filling at triple the speed of a normal bath tub. Another tap added bubbles that shimmered like shiny rainbows upon the water.

"This is bloody amazing," said Alice.

"I wouldn't mind having a bath in here," said Lily, but then, another thought occurred to her. "If everyone's… you know… doing whatever they're doing in there, wouldn't it make the water a bit… unsanitary?"

"Merlin, Lil, it's a magic tub with multi-coloured water coming from the taps. Of all things, it's charmed to stay sanitised, I'm sure."

Lily wrinkled her nose, despite Alice's point.

Alice scooped up a handful of bubbles and blew them from her fingers. "Is it too late for me to be a prefect?" she asked.

Lily giggled. "I'll give you the password if you want, but don't say you got it from me."

"I'll say I got it from Alecto Carrow or Mona Nott."

The water shut off automatically when the tub was full. The scent from the bubbles was intoxicating, like a botanical garden in the spring, bursting into life. There was definitely a romantic atmosphere to the place.

"Do you think you'd ever… you know…" Lily trailed off.

"Have sex in here?"

" _Alice,"_ Lily hissed. "Someone might hear you."

Alice smirked. "Oh, I forgot, sex is a naughty word, isn't it?"

Lily's cheeks burned crimson. "I don't mean it like that, I just… forget it."

"Don't be so embarrassed. And to answer your question, no, I don't think I would. I'd still worry someone would walk in, even though they can't as long as the door is closed. What if one of the ghosts dropped by? Or Peeves?"

Lily cringed. "I guess Remus didn't think of them."

"Or maybe he and Claire didn't do what we're assuming they did. We're just guessing, which isn't really fair."

"You're right," said Lily, her muscles growing tense. She didn't feel comfortable talking about her friends' private business, even though Alice wasn't saying anything gossipy or rude.

"Why do you ask?" said Alice, one eyebrow raised. "Would you?"

"Merlin, Alice! Of course I wouldn't."

Lily didn't tell Alice she'd briefly thought about it, though. Too mortifying. She knew she shouldn't feel that way in front of Alice of all people. But still… it was personal.

"We should go," said Alice. "I'm not supposed to be in here, and I don't want you to get in trouble for letting me in."

"Right, we should," Lily agreed. "And remember, let's not tell anyone who we saw coming out of here."

Alice pretended to lock her mouth with an invisible key. "Their secret is safe with me."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Quidditch season had picked up straightaway, with try-outs drawing multiple girls for the first time in ages. Hufflepuff filled three empty spots with girls, and Ravenclaw accepted two on their team. Slytherin pretended to encourage girls to try-out, but everyone was aware of the archaic belief popular among purebloods that well-bred girls don't play rough sport, and the team remained all boys.

The Gryffindor Quidditch team had one spot to fill – the Beater position Fairfax left open when he finished school. Caradoc begged Lorelei Twonk to give it a shot. She'd demonstrated some powerful upper body strength when she sent Septima Scroggie flying across the common room after Septima called her a firecrab - a creature that shoots fire out its bum when threatened. He reminded her she wouldn't be the only girl on the team, but Lorelei told him he could take his Beater's bat and shove it up his arse.

Remus thought Slytherin's bad behaviour at last season's final match might have scared off potential players, because only a handful of students tried out for the position. Annabelle had hoped a girl would fill Fairfax's spot, but the boys were already saying things about male vs. female upper body strength and how most girls were not cut out for the Beater position. She was well-pleased when a soft-spoken yet powerful fifth-year called Mira Shafiq blew everyone away.

"You've been preparing for this, haven't you," James said after Mira repeatedly dove for Bludgers, sending them two-thirds of the way across the pitch. She didn't miss a single one.

"Yes, I have," replied Mira. "I knew I had some talented shoes to fill."

That same day, they offered her the position, and she gladly accepted.

Practices were brutal, not only because of the exertion required, but because everyone was tired. Classes were arduous for the seventh-years, so James instituted study hours for them to ensure they didn't fall behind. Three evenings a week, after dinner, they were required to report to the library to work on their assignments until the library closed. And on each of those evenings one might discover three or more them falling asleep in their books.

"This Pepper-Up Potion has to be the most complicated potion in existence," Annabelle complained. Study hours had just begun, and Caradoc was already nodding off.

"Why are we learning medical magic?" asked Johnny B. "I don't want to be a healer."

"Welcome to seventh-year Potions," James replied.

As usual, Annabelle was struggling with Potions. She had informed Professor Slughorn in June that she would be dropping the class, as it didn't pertain to her career interests, but he wasn't hearing it. She'd improved greatly over the course of sixth year, and he firmly believed she could earn her N.E.W.T. if she applied herself. When she tried to protest, politely suggesting it was a waste of her time, he told her she was "looking for an easy way out," and if she didn't challenge herself, her "brains would atrophy."

In effect, he'd shamed her into remaining in the class. He had also tried to twist her arm into joining the Slug Club again, but she had told him, "I'm going to have far too much Potions work to be joining any clubs."

He didn't push the issue further, and she didn't tell him she still might skip the N.E.W.T. in June.

"You're snoring, Doc," she said, throwing a crumpled parchment at him. "I'll never make sense of this potion if you don't belt up."

He lifted his head from his arm and tossed the parchment ball back at her. "It's not my fault you're pants at potions."

She dodged it, and it hit the shoulder of one Damon Wilkes, who was seated at the table behind them. He turned round slowly, his droopy eye-lids making him seem perpetually drowsy, and bent to pick up the parchment. No one anticipated him winging it back at Caradoc with such force that it bounced off his face and landed in front of Annabelle.

"That settles it," Caradoc said, pushing back his chair and standing up. Damon stood up as well, just as Evan Rosier and Amycus Carrow sauntered over, their textbooks in hand. Evan was taller than he was last year, but still as gangly as ever. Amycus, on the other hand, was solid, and he probably weighed at least a stone more than he did in June. Tensions were already running high after what happened to Peter, and Annabelle could see James and Sirius steeling themselves. Johnny B. shot her a nervous glance.

Evan's malevolent grin scanned the group before him and settled on Annabelle. With a nod, he asked, "How's it going, leprechaun?"

"What was that?" said Sirius, cupping a hand to his ear. "Did you say something, scumbag?"

"Whoa, calm down there, scrappy. Not interested in kicking your sorry ass tonight."

Sirius dropped his quill and moved to stand up, but Annabelle held him by the wrist, willing him to remain calm. Her heart was pounding so hard she could feel it in her ears.

"Good evening, head boy," Evan continued as he collapsed into a chair across from Damon. He put his feet up on the table. "Where's your extremely better half tonight?"

James glared back at him. As head boy, he had to be very picky about his battles, and Evan was smart enough to know that. Evan enjoyed getting a rise out of people, nudging and picking until the person exploded, and he was probably aware James wouldn't, or at least _shouldn't_ , lose control.

Amycus, on the other hand, had a sinister edge to him, and while Evan was a chatty instigator, Amycus seemed to have a dark fury buried inside of him that was always on the verge of exploding.

He was standing right behind Annabelle and Sirius, about to sit down, but first, he turned to Evan and said, "She's probably in her room, icing her jaw from my date with her last night. There's a good reason she's called _head_ girl, if you know what-"

Annabelle jumped from her seat and slapped him across the face. "Shut your _filthy_ mouth!" she seethed, her hand trembling. Sirius immediately got between her and the foul boy. Johnny B. and Caradoc were already restraining James, who was shouting obscenities as he tried to break free. Amycus was holding his cheek, seemingly awed Annabelle had slapped him, and Evan had also risen, taking a seat on the end of his table and wearing a cocky grin.

Amycus stared at Annabelle, then sprang at her, so blinded by rage that he didn't care if Sirius was right in front of him. His hand flew around Sirius, coming within centimetres of Annabelle's face, but before he could make contact, Sirius gave him a violent shove and lunged at him, punching him in the mouth. There was a pause when Amycus staggered backward, then he bolted at Sirius, knocking him onto a table.

"Enough!" Annabelle cried, grabbing Amycus' shirt collar and wrenching at it. "Stop it before I hex you!"

He whipped around, one hand aimed for her neck, but Sirius grabbed him by the torso and pushed him to the floor. Before Annabelle knew what was happening, all the boys were fighting - Caradoc let go of James and intercepted Damon with a fist to one of his droopy eyes, Amycus came at Johnny B., who kicked the beast in the groin just in time for James to dive onto his back, falling with him to the floor, and Evan and Sirius had each other by the shirt collars, swearing in each other's faces and about to fight. The sound of Amycus' nose cracking under James' fist made her wince.

She pulled her wand from her inside her potions book, but she couldn't keep a steady aim on any of their rivals. She was too shaken and they were moving too much. When they noticed her wand, all wands were abruptly drawn, and everyone poised themselves for battle. James and Amycus were the last to stand up.

"What in Circe's name is going on here!" Madam Wigworthy squawked as she hobbled over, panting from the exertion of crossing the library. "Lower your wands!" she ordered, but they ignored her command, unwilling to become a target for their opponents. "Lower your wands or I will be forced to immobilise you!" She turned to Annabelle. "Find the headmaster."

Annabelle stared back at her with wide eyes, not wanting to leave. Madam Wigworthy wouldn't be able to stop Amycus if he flew into another violent rage. Not that Annabelle could either, but at least she could provide back up, and do her best to make sure no one got killed.

"Do as I instruct you, Miss O'Neill!"

Annabelle hesitated a moment, then turned to go, but Amycus lowered his wand, shoving it into his trousers' back pocket. Then he crossed his arms and feigned boredom. Little by little, everyone lowered their wands.

"You and you," she said, pointing her pudgy finger to Amycus and James. "Come with me. The rest of you are banned from the library for a week. And twenty points from your houses. Now _leave_!"

Annabelle wasn't sure if the ban extended to her part-time library job, but she'd reckoned she'd find out the next time she reported for duty. Evan grinned as he swiped up his books, then strutted off ahead of them, Damon grumbling at his side. Annabelle could tell Evan wanted to say something provocative, but he was outnumbered four to two, and even he wasn't impulsive enough to take on those odds.

"Sirius," she said as they gathered their belongings. "You do not have to take this any further with them. All right? It's over. Don't seek them out."

Sirius said nothing, but she could see his jaw clenching. He started walking towards the exit, his gait eerily calm, like he was on his way to class. He didn't wait for the others, and Annabelle scurried to catch up to him, shooting a worried glance to Johnny B. as she went.

"Sirius," she said, her voice firm. "What are you going to do?"

He didn't look at her, and she wondered if she'd missed something – perhaps some unspoken pact to resume their fight, outside the library. She followed Sirius through the doors, but Evan was gone. Sirius headed up the stairs.

"Say something!" she shouted, stopping on the first step.

"What do you want me to say?" he cried out, turning to face her. "That I'm going to let it go? That it's okay he tried to _attack_ you with me standing right there? I can't do that, Annie. It'll be a miracle if I don't destroy him!"

"But I slapped him first-"

"That's no excuse! You and I both know he was looking for a fight with his sick comment. He's out of control!"

The library door opened and students' voices drifted up the stairs. Annabelle jogged up to where Sirius stood, took his hand, and led him into a dim, narrow corridor that ended with a wooden door. She pushed it open, and they stepped out onto a turret. The moon and stars were hidden by clouds and their hair whipped about in the cold October wind.

She dropped her books and took his face in her hands. "You have to calm down with this talk of more violence," she said. "He was probably going to slap me back. That's all!"

"That's all? He grabbed for your neck!"

"He was just trying to shove me, but-"

"You don't know that!"

"- but if you submit to their taunts, you might be injured, or worse!" He tried to turn away, but she held onto his face.

"Please, Sirius! Don't seek them out! I'm begging you!"

She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tight, as she attempted to reel in her panic. It was bad enough to hear about a fight, but seeing one first hand made her sick inside. She didn't know how far Amycus would have taken it with her, but if Amycus was willing to strike her in front of the majority of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, there was no telling what he would do to Sirius if no one was there to stop him.

Sirius closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. "Okay."

"Okay?" she repeated, pulling back. "You- you won't go after them?"

"I won't."

She let go of him, but something about the way he couldn't meet her eyes tugged at her. She tried to make him look at her, but he closed his eyes and turned his head away.

"You're lying."

"Come on, Annie," he said. "Let's get back inside. It's cold out here."

As he bent to pick up her books, she looked into the starless sky and swallowed the urge to scream. Screaming about it wouldn't make one bit of difference.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

James sat in a chair in the headmaster's office, feeling like a fish out of water. It was the first time he was there for a scolding without Sirius, Remus, or Peter by his side. Dumbledore sat down across from him and James held his head high, despite his nerves. He knew Dumbledore was disappointed in him, but he wasn't sorry for what he did, and he wouldn't pretend to be.

"Explain to me what happened, Mr. Potter."

"Some nasty words were said and Carrow and I fought."

"You'll have to be a little more specific, Mr. Potter."

He could not bring himself to repeat what they had said about Lily. Not in a million years.

"I - I don't want to repeat what he said. It was vulgar. As for the broken nose... he deserved it, sir."

Dumbledore stared back at him, the same way he always did when trying to figure out what was really going on. James tried to maintain his proud posture, but he was wondering if he'd just crossed a line.

"Yes, well, fortunately noses can be healed," said Dumbledore, in a much calmer voice than James had anticipated. "But you must understand, there are worse things in this world for which to be angry than childish words."

"Children don't say the things he said."

"Words in general, then. I'm well aware that you and Mr. Carrow don't get along with each other, but as head boy, you must model correct behaviour."

"Pardon me, Professor, but by correct behaviour, do you mean being a doormat while disgusting things are said about someone I care about? Because I can't do that."

"No, James. I said nothing about being a doormat." Dumbledore meant business when he started using first names, and James tightened his grip on the arms of his chair. "I mean that by getting into physical altercations every time someone taunts you will only give your enemies the information they require on how to rattle you, and in effect, you will be assisting them. Remaining level-headed in the face of a personal attack is not being a doormat, it is being artful. If you are always fighting back, then it will be rather difficult to take them off guard."

It was a bit jarring hearing Dumbledore dish out advice on battling his enemies. Maybe the old man knew more about Carrow than he was letting on.

"I understand, but how do I face the people I care about if I can't defend them? How can I face myself?"

"By realising that not being drawn into battle over words _is_ a defensive strategy. Defence doesn't mean reacting to the first hint of provocation. Unless you are in imminent danger, you must learn to strategize and access a situation. Save your chivalry for when it really counts."

James could see his point, but ignoring Carrow and Rosier's trash talk about Lily would be easier said than done. It was like something broke inside of him when they said such crude things about her, and the idea of ignoring their words made him sick.

"Well, Mr. Potter?"

"I get it. Just not sure if I can do it."

Dumbledore rose from his chair. "I'm sure you'll have more opportunities to practise in the future." James stood up and followed Dumbledore to the door. As the old wizard opened it, he said, "You may want to relay this advice to Mr. Black, as well."

_That will go over like a lead balloon_ , James thought. "Yes, sir, I will."

"Oh, and a week's detention, starting at three o'clock tomorrow. Mr. Carrow will be serving his separately. Mr. Filch has some chandeliers which need dusting, so be prepared to work."

Even though James should have seen it coming, he bowed his head and muttered, "Yes, sir."

"One more thing, be careful on the stairs. The third step has been disappearing on me lately."

James nodded and exited the office. When he returned to his dorm room, he was calmer than before, but still conflicted.

"There's our fearless leader," said Remus, glancing up from his book as James crossed the room.

"Yes, I'm here. Bow down."

"So?" Sirius asked. He was seated on his bed, attempting juggle three Bertie Botts Beans with his wand.

James filled him on what Dumbledore had told him - about resisting the urge to retaliate as a defence strategy, and about not letting emotions rule their behaviour. Sirius didn't respond. The beans dropped onto his duvet.

"I still want to kick their asses," said James, as he pulled off his tie. He tossed it onto his trunk then swiped one of Sirius' jelly beans.

"I'm free right now," said Sirius. In return for James' theft, he gave him a swift jab to the rib cage.

James grunted and fell onto his bed, then tossed the jelly bean into his mouth. "But the more I think about it, the more I think we should hold off. Dumbledore had a point. We're easy targets for their foulness because they know we're going to react every time."

Sirius thought of Annabelle pleading with him not to fight them again. As if it was that simple. Just ignore them and they'll go away. But they were not little courtyard bullies anymore, they were deviants of the highest order, and Sirius doubted ignoring them would stop them.

"Maybe we should call a truce with them," offered Remus. "And before you tell me I'm crazy, think of the girls. Do you want Carrow making them his targets next?"

Peter laughed bitterly. "A truce? Like they could be trusted to uphold it?"

"All I'm saying is we've been fighting them for six years and it's not got any better."

"It's not going to get better," argued Sirius. "They'll probably be working for Voldemort in a year's time, and you know how _that_ psycho feels about people like us."

Remus gave up and turned his attention back to his book. "Just don't provoke them without me."

James and Sirius grinned at each other. Remus refused to be left out, even when he didn't approve.

Peter sighed and said, "Life was so much easier before the girls entered the picture."

"If you say so," replied James, not really paying any attention to him. Instead, he was thinking how much easier life was before he became head boy _._ Nothing would give him more satisfaction at the moment than hexing some remorse into Carrow and Rosier, but Dumbledore had made a lot of sense. And if he got caught fighting again, Lily would be disappointed.

The fight in library would have to do, for the time being. They had the upcoming match to worry about, and remaining level-headed couldn't hurt. He only hoped Sirius wouldn't do anything rash in the meantime.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"What did he say to upset you so?" Lily asked James that evening after he told her an annotated version of what happened.

James stared into the fire. They were on the sofa in the common room, taking advantage of a rare quiet moment.

"You wouldn't understand."

"Yes, I think I would," said Lily.

"It was… nasty. Rude."

"About you?"

"Can we talk about something else? It's been a crap day."

"About me?" James was quiet, and Lily put her head back on the sofa. "Oh James, please don't fight over petty insults on my account. I don't care what they say about me."

"I do."

"But like Dumbledore said, they're just words. Speaking them doesn't make them true."

"I know, but…" He looked down at his hands. "Not reacting feels wrong, as well. Like I'm comfortable with them slandering you. And I'm not."

"And I'm not comfortable with them bruising this face," she said, kissing his cheek. "Let them talk. They're only proving how rotten they are. Sounds like Dumbledore thinks so, as well."

"Yeah, it was odd. Like he was coaching me in the art of war or something."

"Weird, but it can't hurt to listen to him. My honour will be fine, as long as you're in one piece."

James laced his fingers with hers. Merlin, how he wanted to be done with school. The chances of seeing these pureblood bullies after leaving Hogwarts were slim to none, and then he and his mates could finally live without the constant aggravation incited by the losers.

"Let's talk about how we're going to shred them in Quidditch tomorrow," he said. "I have a feeling it's going to be a short match."

"That's more like it. Beat them fair and square on the pitch."

James pressed his mouth into a tight smile. "Oh, we will. We will."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The sky had opened up in a torrential downpour just hours before their first match of the season, creating a swamp of thick, brown soup all over the pitch. Annabelle was nervous, but not like she was the previous autumn when her anxiety over facing Slytherin for her first-ever Quidditch match had twisted her stomach like rope, causing her to barf in front of her teammates.

Still, Sirius seemed to be waiting for her to panic. He kept glancing at her, a cautious optimism in his expression.

"I'm all right, Sirius."

They were headed to the changing room, the earth a saturated sponge squishing beneath their feet. When he raised an eyebrow, a subtle grin on his lips, she laughed. "Honest. I'm not going to be sick. I'm fine."

He reached out and massaged the nape of her neck. "You've come a long way since last October."

"Thanks to you lot."

"And thanks to your dedication, even though you weren't keen on Quidditch."

"I'm slowly coming round I think."

"Oh really? Do I foresee a Ballycastle Bats match in our future?"

"Just say when."

He gave her a peck on the lips before climbing the stairs to the changing rooms. Once she was on her side of the divide, her heart started to beat a little faster, but she reminded herself that according to James and Caradoc, who had watched the Slytherin try-outs from under James' invisibility cloak, their new Seeker, Thornton Dolus, who preferred to be called "Thorn," was only moderately talented, and he couldn't do any of the tricks Annabelle had picked up. Apparently it wasn't cheating to spy on an opposing team's try-outs, because anyone could watch if they wanted to, and some of the more Quidditch-obsessed students actually did, parking themselves in the stands day in and day out.

Once they were in the air, it didn't take Annabelle long to figure out Thorn's style of playing. He must have thought being an aggressive fool was enough to win a match, but Caradoc and Mira showed no mercy for the arrogant boy, sending bludger after bludger into him. Surprisingly, the usually methodical Amycus Carrow was a bit sloppy, only hitting his targets if he was close to them, but the other Beater, sixth-year Jacoby Ollivander, was on his game, and Annabelle had to stay alert. He managed to take her by surprise once, the bludger grazing her hip as she dodged it just in time.

When the snitch finally came into view, Annabelle and Thorn zoomed after it, Annabelle easily gaining the advantage, but Thorn caught up and tried to ram Annabelle in the back with the end of his broomstick. When he missed, he reached for one of her braids, but she caught him by the wrist, gripping it like a vice before shoving him off.

"What the hell are you doing?" she seethed at him, steering away from the goon. By then, the snitch was gone. She turned back toward him and shouted, "You shouldn't have to touch my hair to win the match!"

"Another reason girls shouldn't play Quidditch," he sneered as he sped up, trying to lose her. "Too worried about their hair!"

But it wasn't her hair she was worried about, it was being violated - her hair had nothing to do with catching the snitch and he had no right to physically assault her. She made an abrupt turn, flying in the opposite direction, and he followed, thinking she'd seen it again. She led him straight into one of the stands, turning just before he slammed sideways into a wooden support beam.

"Bitch!" he called out.

"Poor sport," she replied, smiling as she zipped away. "Shake it off!"

It was an hour before she spotted the Snitch again and she wasted no time going after it. Thorn was trailing her, and as the Snitch dipped close to the ground, Annabelle kneeled on the end of her broom, reached out, and grabbed it, just as Thorn collided with her, sending her face first into the mud.

As her teammates landed beside her, she rolled over onto her back. She'd been close enough to the ground when it happened that the only wounds she sustained were to her ego. Sirius squatted beside her and took her hand, pulling her into a seated position. Her hair was heavy with mud, her face and body coated with it. The others were jumping about, tackling each other, gleeful over their first win of the season against their arch nemesis.

"You all right?" Sirius asked.

"Yes," Annabelle muttered, wiping the mud off her face. "Just a bit dirty."

"You did it, though."

" _We_ did it," she corrected.

It was true. The boys had handed Slytherin their arses, scoring repeatedly on them. Sirius had only missed two quaffles, so the only hope Slytherin had of beating them was for Thorn to catch the Snitch, but he was no match for Annabelle. Gryffindor was strong, yes, but Slytherin had been a disgrace.

Johnny B. bounded over and slipped his arms under hers from behind, hoisting her off the ground and spinning her around amid the rest of the team. She giggled with delight, her humiliation at being thrown into the mud fading fast.

"I have a good feeling about this season, lads," announced James, then quickly added, "and ladies."

Sirius had managed to remain relatively clean, but as soon as he let down his guard, Annabelle pounced on him.

"Annie! What in the-" She rubbed her cheek against his.

"I thought you needed a hug."

When she pulled back, she giggled at the sight of him. One side of his face and the entire front of him was splotched with mud.

"Now who's the bleeding pain in the arse?" he asked, a smile forming on his lips. He pulled her close for a muddy kiss.

"You know you adore this bleeding pain in the arse," she replied, tracing a line of mud across his other cheek.

"I think that's rather obvious."

Madam Hooch blew her whistle, and the team mounted their brooms. They lined up above the centre of the pitch and flew past the Slytherin team, shaking hands with each player. When Amycus passed Sirius, the boys narrowed their eyes at other, and in a flash, Amycus' hand flew out, attempting to swat Sirius in the head. Sirius must have known he would try something, because he dodged Amycus' hand, and cuffed the offending Slytherin in the ear.

Just like that, the two were throwing punches in mid-air, grabbing at capes and faces, trying to force each other off their brooms. The crowd erupted in hoots and cries of " _fight fight fight"_ and both teams watched on, half-energised and half in awe of the brawl, until James and Johnny B. attempted to break it up.

"Stop it!" Annabelle cried out. "You're acting like savages!"

"If I had my wand, you'd be in pieces," Amycus hissed at Sirius, and Sirius laughed in his face.

Madam Hooch joined them in the air, blowing her whistle repeatedly even though the boys weren't heeding it. Annabelle wondered if the tough-as-nails witch was also entertained by the fight, silently wagering on a winner in her head.

"Immobilise them before they hurt each other!" Annabelle yelled at her.

Madam Hooch gave a self-conscious nod and took aim, but thankfully a spell wasn't necessary, as the boys were finally separated by their friends. They flew straight to their stations on opposite sides of the pitch.

Annabelle followed Sirius, her broom falling to the floor as she strode straight into the boys' section of the changing rooms.

"I don't want to hear it, Annie," he said as he pulled off his gloves. He sat down on the bench and began ripping off his shin guards.

She stared at him, the jumble of words and frustration boiling inside of her, blistering her throat as they tried to escape, but she couldn't speak. She couldn't string together a sentence that would get through to him, not just then. It was useless.

He looked at her, and as the sound of the other boys landing on the wood floor reverberated through the creaking structure, she scowled and walked away.

 


	6. The Only One

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_"I have accepted fear as a part of life — specifically the fear of change... I have gone ahead despite the pounding in the heart that says: turn back."_

_~ Erica Jong_

_.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-._

"Sirius and Amycus received detention," said Lily as Annabelle entered the dorm room. She had been in the shower, scrubbing the caked-on mud away and trying to calm down. All she could think was how stubborn boys were, how proud. They didn't see that they were actually lowering themselves in the process of trying to be superior, risking personal injury just to save their warped idea of honour.

"Good," Annabelle retorted. "Lucky they didn't get kicked off their teams."

Alice closed her Charms book and set it on her bedside table. "Annie, don't be too hard on him. Carrow is an instigator."

"But Sirius is better than that," said Annabelle as she lay down on her bed. She knew he might not believe it, but he was.

Unexpected tears stung her eyes, and she looked up at the ceiling. She let out a shaky breath, and Lily waited a moment before saying softly, "I know how you feel, Annie. It's awful seeing them fight that way."

"It never ends," Annabelle croaked.

"He'll get over it eventually, though. They all will."

"Will they?"

"Of course. With internships and N.E.W.T.s coming up, they're not going to have time to worry about nonsense. James was already saying he might try Dumbledore's advice about resisting the urge to fight."

Annabelle didn't think it would be as easy for Sirius to follow that advice, because unlike James, he was raised on violence. It was his primary instinct, because it had been his parents' first reaction so often.

"Don't forget, Amycus tried to hit him first," said Alice. "And Amycus tried to hit _you_ yesterday. His girlfriend. Even Frank would be enraged by that, and he's the calmest, most level-headed person I know."

"Exactly," said Lily. "You said yourself you tried to curse Amycus in the library, and I believe you would have if you had a clear shot."

"Of course I would have."

Lily gave her a knowing smile and Annabelle's cheeks went hot.

"See? Sirius is no different. He sees a threat, he acts on it."

"And can you really blame him?" asked Alice, "We've seen what they're capable of. He's right to be protective."

"And I'm right to be worried about him," countered Annabelle.

"He has a long history with them, Annie," said Alice, whose pureblood family resembled the Potters far more than it did the Carrows, the Rosiers, or the Blacks. "The pureblood supremacists run in the same social circles. There will always be a grudge between Sirius and those guys because he rejected their way of life."

Annabelle's fear of something tragic happening to someone she loved, just as it had happened to her grandfather, overwhelmed her, causing her voice to crack.

"I know, but I don't want something awful to happen…something needless because he can't resist a stupid fight."

"Don't worry," said Alice. "None of them wants to get expelled with less than a year to go. Not even Amycus Carrow. From what I've heard, his parents would throttle him."

She understood what they were getting at, but she couldn't forget the look on Amycus' face when he told Sirius what he would have done had he been armed, and how Sirius had laughed, not really believing him. Or maybe believing he could stop him, if it came to that. Hopefully he could protect himself without blasting Amycus to pieces in the process.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Annabelle and Sirius didn't talk much to each other during lunch, but James, ever the proud captain kept the conversation lively, regaling everyone with their triumph, encouraged by Caradoc who loved the boasting and trash-talk that took place after a victory almost as much as he loved playing the game. Students were passing by, patting the team members on the back, giving thumbs ups, but it all felt spoiled to Annabelle. Those tossers couldn't win, so they had to make trouble.

She brushed her knuckles against Sirius' thigh and his hand slipped down to meet hers. He held it momentarily before bringing it to his lips and kissing it.

"I'm sorry I was sharp with you earlier," he whispered.

"I know you are."

"And I'm sorry you had to see that."

He looked at her cautiously, a request for absolution in his stormy eyes. Staying upset with him was pointless, since he was already hard enough of on himself. If it wasn't his parents doing the damage, it was someone else, like Amycus, Evan, or Severus, and if it wasn't one of them, it was Sirius himself administering the blows upon his own sweet, wounded spirit. She wouldn't make it worse.

She gave him a little half smile. "I think I'll survive."

He smiled back her, and she could almost see the weight lifting from him, as he sat up a bit straighter and took a bite of his shepherd's pie.

After lunch, she took a walk outside with him. The sun was peeking through the clouds, and the air smelled fresh and woodsy. The fiery leaves shivered on the trees. It was hard not to be soothed by such beauty all around.

"I don't want to upset you," he said, as they wandered in the direction of the lake, "but I'm not going to be their punching bag. Especially if they strike first, like they have been."

"I don't want you to be their punching bag… I'm just…" She paused in an attempt to steady herself. "I'm afraid you'll get hurt again," she said quietly. "Like you were last Christmas… when we almost lost you." The image of those grizzly wounds that rendered him near-dead would never leave her.

"I'm afraid for you, as well," he said. "How can I ignore that he keeps lashing out at you?"

"Our chances of getting hurt decrease when we don't engage with them. When we stop allowing them to provoke us."

Sirius shook his head. "I've already tolerated too much."

"So what are you saying?"

"I'm saying I'm done putting up with their shit. Look, I said I wouldn't instigate, but if you think I could ignore the fact that he tried to hit you _,_ then you must have been sampling the Confusing Draught we made in Potions last week."

Annabelle couldn't contain the giggle that escaped her, despite not being able to change his mind about fighting the Slytherins.

"It looked like owl droppings," she said. "I would never sample it."

Sirius chuckled as well, but soon grew quiet again. They came to the lake, and after settling themselves on a flat rock, they looked out over the grey water as it rippled in the breeze. He draped an arm around her and she rested her head against his shoulder.

"Do you remember the night during fourth-year when Gryffindor Tower had to be evacuated due to the dung bombs going off?" he asked.

"How could I forget?"

"Well, I have this memory of you sitting on the floor in the foyer between Alice and Johnny B. while McGonagall went upstairs to sort it out. You glared at me-"

"I'm sure you glared first."

"No, I didn't, but fine, if you say so." They both smiled, and Sirius went on, "As I was saying, after you glared at me, you put your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes. You looked so tired..."

"It was one in the morning - of course I was tired. How do you remember all this?"

"I don't know, actually. I guess because I felt a bit envious of Johnny B. that night, even though I didn't know it. But I think that's what is was. I didn't like that you hated me, that's for sure."

"Again, I didn't hate you. I just wasn't keen on you."

Sirius laughed again, and said, "Did you think it was us that set off the dung bombs?"

"At first I did, but Remus informed us that it wasn't you lot, that it was probably Malachi Malfoy, and the rest of them."

"They did it as revenge, for the FolliGro Serum."

Annabelle would never forget the morning in the Great Hall when about three-fourths of Slytherin House were seen sprouting long, thick tufts of hair from the palms of their hands. They looked utterly horrified by the seemingly random occurrence, and Annabelle had laughed hysterically until she saw a first-year Slytherin in tears over it.

It turned out the hand railing on the Slytherin dungeon stairs hand been greased with the serum sometime in the night, insuring when the students came upstairs for breakfast, their hands would be affected. The boys never admitted to it, but they didn't have to; most people put two and two together.

"No mystery as to who pulled that one," said Annabelle.

Sirius grinned sheepishly. "Come on, it was one of our greatest hits."

"How did they get the password for the tower?"

"Snooping about, most likely," he replied with shrug. "We got theirs loads of times."

Annabelle sighed. "Life would be easier if you could all go back to the days of dung bombs and FolliGro Serum."

"It wasn't all fun and games back then. There were plenty of duels in addition to pranks. We spent a good part of fifth year learning basic healing spells so we wouldn't have to see Madam Pomfrey so often. We're just stronger now, I reckon, and more skilled."

"And capable of a lot more damage."

A mermaid's tail splashed in the distance, then sank back into the murky depths from which it came. Annabelle caught the scent of woodsmoke from Hagrid's hut on the breeze, a favourite sign of autumn to her, and she inhaled deeply as she tried to reconcile the serenity of the moment with the past week's upheaval.

"Please understand, Annie. I couldn't bear it if they..." His words died on his lips, and he let out a shaky breath. "I don't have much in this world, but what I do have, I want to keep."

He met her eyes and the anguished expression he wore concealed nothing, his vulnerability resonating in her heart. She took his hand and held it both of hers.

"Oh Sirius, I do understand, honestly I do. You know the same goes for me. The thought of losing another person I love sickens me. I can't go through it again."

After a few moments, Sirius squeezed her hand and said, "I'll try harder not to let them wind me up. All right?"

She nodded. "All right."

Yet, she feared with the insidious reach of Voldemort's influence, they were no longer dealing with some silly boyhood resentments. Nothing was that simple anymore.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The following Monday, Lily stepped into Professor McGonagall's office at the specified time. Alice had her pre-internship meeting the day before, and it had been quick, as Alice had known she wanted to be an Auror since she could remember. Lily, on the other hand, wasn't sure what she wanted to do. Up until she found out she was a witch, she thought she might like to be a primary school teacher, but there was no such thing in the wizarding world. Being muggle-born, she could still apply for university, since all of her legal paperwork, including her birth certificate, was registered in Cokeworth. She could lead a double life, but she didn't think she wanted to. She wasn't sure of anything at the moment, except that life as she knew it was about to change again.

"Hello, Miss Evans," Professor McGonagall greeted her. "Have a seat."

Lily sat down in the straight-backed wooden chair, trying to maintain an air of dignity, despite feeling like an aimless question mark.

"As you know, internship season is fast approaching, and while not a requirement, it is strongly encouraged, especially for our high achieving students. An internship can help you form connections in the field you wish to pursue, and in many cases, it may even secure you an apprenticeship upon finishing school. Have you given some thought to where you would like to apply?"

The talk of finishing school was making Lily queasy. Professor McGonagall stared at her, and Lily pulled at the hem of her skirt.

Swallowing hard, she gave a little shake of her head and replied, "Yes, ma'am, but I haven't decided."

"Oh. Right," said Professor McGonagall, not hiding her surprise. "Tell me then, what interests you?"

Lily had a lot of interests. Doing well in school, the idea of travel, reading, caring for others, potions…

"Potions, I guess."

"You guess?"

"No, I mean, I know. Potions are interesting."

"Excellent. Maybe you could apply for Professor Slughorn's internship. And at an apothecary as an alternative."

It sounded like a solid plan, and Lily was good at potions, but the idea of brewing them for the rest of her life didn't appeal to her at all.

"Miss Evans, an internship doesn't lock you in to a specific field forever," said McGonagall, as though she could read her thoughts. "It may help you to figure out what you don't want to do as well."

"What if I just want to make Knickerbocker Glories at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour?"

Professor McGonagall stared at her again, then cleared her throat. "Is that- is that what you wish to do?"

"I don't know what I wish to do. I just…" She stopped and chewed at her bottom lip, not entirely sure the older witch would understand. She knew some students had it all figured out, or at least they thought they did, and were ready to jump into the work force straight out of school. But Lily felt she couldn't possibly be the only one who was utterly clueless in that department.

"Go on, Miss Evans. You won't be punished for your honesty."

Lily took a deep breath and said, "It just seems too soon to know, like I've barely lived. How can I be expected to choose a career already?"

Professor McGonagall open a folder on her desk and took a parchment from it. Handing it to Lily, she said, "Here is the list of employers with whom our students have secured internships over the last decade. Have a look, and see if you find something of interest. As I said, Miss Evans, an internship is not a life sentence. Think of it as a life experience which will help you to figure out your calling."

Lily took the parchment from her and looked it over. Florean Fortescue's wasn't on the list. Nothing else jumped out at her. She handed the list back to Professor McGonagall.

"Well?" said the professor.

"I think I need some time to think about it."

"That's perfectly acceptable, but don't wait too long to decide. Professor Slughorn only accepts two students, and it's highly competitive, as are most internships. Come back in December for the application."

Lily nodded and stood up. "Thank you, ma'am."

"You're welcome, dear."

Once the door closed behind her, Lily breathed a sigh of relief. She decided to visit the library and see if she could find anything worth reading on the art of magical ice cream-making.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

An hour later, James sat before Professor McGonagall.

"Mr. Potter," she said, "Any ideas on where you'll be applying for your internship?"

"Yes, ma'am," he replied.

When he said no more, she replied impatiently, "Do tell me where."

"Not telling." She inhaled sharply and he chuckled. "I jest, I jest. I was thinking of St. Mungo's in the Quidditch medicine department. That is, if I don't get to play professional Quidditch."

"You know as well as I do, Mr. Potter, that professional Quidditch positions are few and far between."

"Yes, ma'am, I know. My mum tells me all the time." He proceeded to impersonate his mother, waving his forefinger as he said, " _'Jamie, you must have a solid backup plan._ ' So, yeah, I know."

"Your mother is a wise woman. And I think an internship in the Quidditch medicine department would serve both your interest in the sport and your inclination towards high academic pursuits."

James was already bored with the conversation and had begun to tune her out. He'd wanted to work in medicine since he could remember, and his father was content knowing the family business would be sold when he retired. He was already in talks with the Armoured Flight Corporation about a possible buyout. Mergers, acquisitions, core competency, leveraging of assets; business had never interested James much. When she was finished expounding on the field of magical medicine, she handed him a paper with the name Gentian Van Arsdall on it.

"Van _Ars_ dall…" he murmured. "Rather unfortunate name."

McGonagall shot him a perturbed look. "That is the wizard to whom you will want to address your application. He's the head of the Quidditch medicine department at St. Mungo's training centre.

"Thanks, Professor. Can't wait!"

She eyed him narrowly, and he raised his eyebrows, fighting the urge to grin. "Can I go, ma'am?" he asked.

"Yes, Mr. Potter, you may."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Talk of internships dominated the conversation at dinner that evening.

"Ice cream maker?" asked Johnny B. "And you told her that? That's the best thing I've heard all day."

"Yeah, but where are you really going to intern?" asked Peter.

Lily's smile disappeared. "Why? Is making ice cream not a legitimate career?"

James lips tightened as he stared Peter down, daring him to criticise her.

Peter chose his words carefully. "I only mean someone with marks as high as yours could intern anywhere, like with a famous potions master or something equally prestigious."

"I can still work in a potions lab or somewhere else," she said. "But until I figure out what I want to do, why shouldn't I have some fun?"

"I for one hope you get it, Lily," said Caradoc. "I'll be stopping by after my shift at the Bake Away Cakery, that is, if I get the internship there."

"You'll get it," said Alice. No one would ever forget his perfect Bakewell Tarts.

Sirius turned to Remus. "What did she say about your choice?"

"She said working in the newspaper industry might be a good match, how reporters have flexible schedules and I may be able to use _being in the field_ as a cover-up on certain days. The Daily Prophet takes three interns every year."

"Sounds promising," said Sirius.

Remus shrugged. "Yeah. I hope so."

"Don't worry, Remus," said Peter. "It'll all work out. And if it doesn't, we can start our own circus, perform magic all over the world and call it illusions. People will think we're the most talented acrobats and magicians alive. We'll be famous with the muggles."

"Not a bad idea," said Remus, "except for the Statute of Secrecy."

"Screw the statute. There must be a loophole somewhere."

"Let me know if you find it."

"He's not joining a sodding circus," said James, remembering Vernon Dursley's snide remarks about wizards having no other options. "If my dad decides not to sell the company, he'll hire you, Moony."

Remus had grown quiet, a weariness forming in his expression. To ease the conversation away from his uncertain future, Johnny B. said, "I think I'm going to intern at my mum's salon. Spend some time with her, learn a thing or two. It's a win-win."

"You _want_ to work with your mum?" sneered Peter.

"I actually quite like my mum, so yes. And it's not like I'm taking a full-time job there. It's just a bloody internship and I can learn how a business is run. But I'm sure your internship will be so much better than mine." Johnny B. rolled his eyes as he took a sip of pumpkin juice.

"The Office of Misinformation is an important office," said Peter. "They're the ones who cover up huge magical disasters, and convince muggles what they saw isn't really what they saw. Without it, muggles would know all about us."

Johnny B. pretended to snore, which caused Lily to laugh out loud; she was still feeling the sting for being criticised about her possible ice cream internship.

Peter glared at him, but Johnny B. laughed and said, "I'm just taking the piss. It sounds fascinating, really."

His face told a different story though, but Peter was no longer paying attention, his focus switched to the comic book opened next to his plate.

Sirius remained relatively quiet during the conversation, not having much to add. With the war, and all the recent deaths, the idea of heading off to some nine to five job seemed unrealistic. He also wasn't keen on the idea of being another working stiff, taking orders, and answering to some muppet who barely passed his O.W.L.s, let alone his N.E.W.T.s.

He knew he should be concerned, but he would figure something out when the time came, something that didn't compromise his dignity. The ministry was out, since his parents held too much influence there and they would certainly have him blacklisted. Working under Minchum was preferable only to being drawn and quartered, so no loss there.

Annabelle, on the other hand, had made her decision, and she was sticking to it. At least she wanted to work in one of the more reputable departments of the ministry, Sirius thought. Bless her heart, she was so much like her grandfather, which made him proud, but at the same time, fearful. O'Neill was one of the worst names she could have at a time like this, a time when Voldemort was forcing his gruesome ideology on wizardkind.

Too bad there was no internship in being a guard dog.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Annabelle's appointment was after dinner. She arrived at the deputy headmistress' office, a part of her excited for the future, and a part of her feeling nervous, like there was no turning back the clock. Six years at Hogwarts had flown by, or so it seemed, and now, there she was, about to discuss her seventh-year internship with Professor McGonagall.

"Miss O'Neill," the professor said after Annabelle had sat down. "Are you going to tell me you want to make ice cream as well?"

Annabelle actually approved of Lily's idea to intern at Fortescue's. She was good at potions, and magical ice-cream making couldn't be too different from brewing potions. If it made Lily happy, who was anyone else to discourage her? Just because the girl was scarily intelligent, didn't mean she had to devote her life to some boring job in a laboratory or with her nose buried inside dusty old reference books.

"No, ma'am," she replied. "I don't think I'd be very good at that."

"Well, then, what do you think you'd be good at?"

"I was thinking of working for the Ministry, in the Department of Social Welfare and Justice."

Professor McGonagall smiled, her eyes growing misty. "Ahh, like your grandfather. I think he'd be pleased."

Annabelle knew he would be, but that wasn't why she was interested. She wanted to help the Resistance. Mercury and Lux had said on their radio programme how understaffed the department was, and how they were constantly reaching out to magical and muggle families who had been affected by Voldemort, but they were having a hard time getting aid to everyone who needed it.

"I hope, Miss O'Neill, you understand the demands of the job. Magical social workers work long, tiring hours for little pay, and often burn out rather quickly, moving on to other fields."

"I do fully understand, and I want to help."

"I'm afraid, as intern in that particular department, you won't be going into the field, but you will be _easing the burden_ , as they say. You will be completing stacks of paperwork, scheduling, and dealing with tedious office issues. Does that appeal to you?"

"No, ma'am, but if it gives me some insight into the job, then I'll do it."

Professor McGonagall scrawled something on a piece of parchment and handed it to Annabelle.

"This is the head of Social Justice Interns. You may contact her with your application in December."

Annabelle looked down at the name - Marlene McKinnon, M.S.W., which stood for Magical Social Worker.

"Thank you, ma'am."

"You're welcome, and good luck."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Sirius' appointment was scheduled for the next day, during the break before his eleven o'clock class. Even though the ban from the library was still in effect, he decided to stop by anyway to see Annabelle beforehand, wanting to remind himself there was more to life than the endless drudgery of working for someone else. He hated the thought of taking orders, of doing the real labour just to have some old sod make all the money and throw him the scraps. He wasn't sure how to break it to McGonagall, mainly because she would lecture him about making a living, and in truth, she would be correct. He had no money, except the allowance The Potters sent him, which he couldn't exactly live on outside of school.

For now, Annabelle would take his mind off the drudgery that lay ahead.

"Sirius," she breathed, gripping his shirt. His hands clutched her hips, her back to the wall in the Potions section of the library. He looked at her, his mind no longer focused on the unknown, but on the present moment in which she loved him. A simple yet extraordinary truth - her love for him - and his heart was so dependent on it.

Their mouths met again, his tongue teasing hers, and Sirius thought how these stolen moments were never enough; he wanted all of her, without the fear of being caught. If Madam Wigworthy discovered them, Dumbledore would hear about it and want to _talk_ about it, and that was one talk with Dumbledore he'd rather not have, ever. Yet he couldn't resist taking the chance.

"Okay…" another kiss. " _Sirius_ …" and another. "You should go before you get caught." She put her fingers over her lips, shutting her eyes in order to break his spell over her.

"I'll be back before class," he said, but didn't let her go.

She opened her eyes, but focused on the knot of his tie instead of his beautiful face.

"If I look at you, I'm going to want to kiss you again, and you'll be late for your appointment."

He ducked to meet her eyes, but she grinned and turned away.

"Fine, I'm really going now," he said, and let go of her. "You missed your chance for one last kiss."

She laughed, and covered her eyes with her hands. "See you before class."

He tugged a lock of her hair and strolled towards the exit. She had to have one more peek at him, though, and she parted her fingers. He must have known she'd watch him go, because he looked back at her, his sly smile making her blush.

"Wait," she said, and ran back into his arms.

She covered his face with kisses, and he smiled contentedly. He loved it when she kissed him like that, and he gladly would've stayed there in the library all day if meant being smothered with her kisses.

She ended with a slow, deep kiss on his lips, then gazed into his eyes, a dreamy look on her face. He rubbed his nose against hers.

"It's going to hurt to walk away from you right now," he said. "You know that, right?"

"It hurts me more to watch you go."

"How so?"

"I'm the one who has to watch your glorious arse moving farther and farther away. It's bloody painful, if I'm being honest."

He grinned, then leaned in again, but their lips had barely touched when voices were heard a few bookcases over. Sirius backed away from her, his hands shoved in his pockets.

"I'll walk backwards, so you don't have to suffer the brutal agony of saying goodbye to my arse."

"Next time, keep your robe on, that'll solve the problem."

A sly smile lit up his face as he shook his head no. She pretended to frown, but the urge to smile took over, and she watched as he walked backwards to the end of the row of shelves and rounded the corner, giving a quick wink before disappearing. She leaned against the wall and smiled.

Once she was sure she wouldn't float away in a cloud of bliss, she turned down the nearest aisle, and recoiled as though she'd seen dead mouse. But instead of a rodent, it was Evan Rosier, his eyes searching the shelves. She stepped around him.

"Where's my kiss, leprechaun?" he asked, his eyes still on the shelf in front of him.

She kept walking. "In your dreams."

"In _yours_ , more like it," he said as he followed her. "But sorry, you don't interest me."

She continued toward the history section, giving him a sidelong glance over her shoulder. "Oh, you were hoping for a kiss from Sirius, then? Sorry to burst your bubble, but you're not his type."

"Sorry to burst _your_ bubble, but I'm not a poof."

"Such a stupid word. You probably don't get invited to leave your cave very often, do you?"

"That's right…" he said, snickering. "I almost forgot - your teammate is a _homosexual_."

She stopped at the end of a bookcase and faced him. "Why are you bothering me? You're not even supposed to be here."

"Going to tell on me?"

"Yes."

She turned to find Madam Wigworthy, but he said, "Wait, I'll go. Just hear me out first."

She hesitated, wondering what he was up to, but there were students about, so she figured it couldn't have been dangerous. "Hurry up," she snapped, not looking at him.

He sat down on the edge of a table and said, "My girlfriend told me her family wants her to stop seeing me."

"Clever family."

"I'm not finished," he said, ignoring her remark. "She said her cousin Gavin, your team's former Seeker, told her parents my family was dangerous, and that Teagan should think twice before associating with the likes of me."

"And? What does this have to do with me?"

"I don't know her cousin. So, tell me, princess, where would he get that idea?"

She grimaced and replied, "How should I know? Am I a seer? I don't know him either."

She walked away, wishing she wasn't alone with him. He followed.

"Come on, O'Neill. Don't play thick with me, although you are rather good at it."

"Hmmm, could it be because it's true?"

"You know _nothing_ about my family."

She thought about it for a moment, trying to figure out what he could possibly be suggesting. Turning round, she asked, "Are you saying you think _I_ was the one who told Gavin Travers your fam-"

"No. _No_." he said, growing flustered. "Your ridiculous Quidditch captain and your dicksplash boyfriend did! Admit it!"

Annabelle chuckled. "Where's your proof?"

"I don't need proof."

"Well, even if they did warn him about you, I don't know the content of every conversation they have with their mates, so I'm afraid I can't help. Not that I would help you anyway."

"Just tell them this: _Challenged accepted._ "

"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked. He got up to walk away, but she stepped towards him. "If you so much as lay a finger on-"

"Shhh," he said, raising a finger to his lips. "This is the library. Keep your voice down."

"You know, it's clear you're vulgar and immature, but other than that, I barely know you, and I've never even spoken to Teagan. So why are you constantly trying to get a rise out of me?"

His smirk disappeared, and he looked at her like he wanted to say something more, something important. "Because you're in with _them_ , and they've done nothing but look down on me for years."

"And you haven't done the same to them? You and your dodgy mates haven't had it in for them since the beginning?" He turned to walk away, and Annabelle said, "Yeah, that's what I thought. Another whiny pureblood prat with a sense of entitlement. Well you can save it, because I don't care to-"

"You know nothing about me!" he shouted, whipping around. Several students in the vicinity looked at him, fear in their eyes. He clenched his jaw and stepped toward Annabelle, stopping directly in front of her. She stayed still, attempting to appear indifferent.

He swallowed hard and continued quietly, "Two summers ago, my father stepped outside one night to scare off a Blood-Sucking Bugbear that had been frequenting our muggle infested neighbourhood. Three muggle thieves sneaked up on him and stabbed him six times, then took his coin purse and ran." He looked down at the floor, his shoulders rising and falling and his jaw clenched, then he met her eyes again. "My oldest brother had to drag his bleeding body off the street, so the neighbours wouldn't see him disapparating with him to St. Mungo's."

Annabelle's heart was pounding. "D-did he survive?"

Evan shook his head. "No," he replied, tears flooding his eyes. "He died before the healers could stop the flow of blood. He never had a chance, they said, and all so some lowlife scum could get a bag of coins they can't even use. They probably thought it was toy money and gave it to their filthy spawn to play with."

"I - I'm so sorry to hear-"

"He was trying to help those idiotic muggles - to protect them - and that's what he gets? Muggles and their ignorance, their greed - they destroyed my family. So forgive me if I'm not a muggle-lover like you and your mates."

"Again, I'm sorry for your loss, _truly,_ but not all muggles are ignorant, murderous thieves-"

"They're all ignorant of magic, even frightened by the idea of it. My father could have blasted that Bugbear into oblivion if not for the pathetic muggles, watching our every move, gossiping about us. My mother could barely walk out the front door without some local kid calling her a witch in their sneering way - like it's a bad thing."

Annabelle crossed her arms over herself, the talk of muggles and muggle-lovers causing her heart to race. Where was Madam Wigworthy when she needed her?

"Children don't know any better."

"Sure, that's the excuse. Ignorance all around for those people, and we just accept it. You know what? My brothers are known to run their mouths at the pub when they're drunk, maybe saying too much about their politics, but they are not a danger to Teagan. _I_ am not a danger to Teagan."

"Teagan should know that already, shouldn't she?"

"Her cousin told her family that we're a bunch of inbred maniacs, like the Travers family isn't just as inbred. One of her uncles is a right lunatic, but her parents filled her head with all kinds of lies about _my_ family, just so she'd stop seeing me."

"So talk to her about it then. I'm sure if-"

"I don't need relationship advice from you. Just let Potter and Black know if they want a fight, we'll give them a fight." He gave a quick salute and said, "Have fun shelving books, leprechaun."

He stalked away, turning back once to raise his eyebrows in warning.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

After sprinting to Gryffindor tower to grab his robe, which he'd hastily forgot in his urge to see Annabelle, Sirius sat before Professor McGonagall, already irritated at the scolding he received for being late.

"…and tardiness will _not_ be tolerated in the work force," she finished sharply, then folded her hands and smiled. "Now. Any thoughts on your internship, Mr. Black?"

He crossed an ankle over his knee and tucked his hair behind his ears, trying to get comfortable. "No, ma'am," he said.

"Sorry, did you say no?"

"I did."

Professor McGonagall sighed. "Mr. Black, there must be something that interests you."

"A lot of things interest me. Being a lackey in an office somewhere is not one of them."

Professor McGonagall let out a patronising chuckle. "There is more to being an intern than being a lackey. You are there to learn, to gain experience."

"Learn how to take orders, and experience being bossed around by some phony on a power trip? Sorry, ma'am, but it's not for me."

"So what are you saying? You don't plan to work? How will you make money? How will you _live?_ "

"Maybe I'll start a business. Quidditch lessons for kids, or-"

"Even entrepreneurs must learn how to run their own business. And even business owners have to answer to others - their customers most of all."

"Maybe I'll start a rock band, or invent something, or write a book about my ancestors and call it 'Purebloods: Nothing Pure About Them.' I'll figure something out, ma'am."

"I cannot allow a bright student such as yourself, sit back and let the world pass him by. The internship is only once a week for six weeks. I think you can endure it."

Sirius resisted rolling his eyes. "Fine. I'll intern at Gringotts - learn how to break codes."

"And that interests you?"

"Not really, ma'am."

"What about Magical Law Enforcement?"

"So I can have an imbecile like Minister Minchum breathing down my neck? All due respect, professor, but, no thank you."

"Well, I'm sorry Mr. Black, but there is no internship in cynicism, so you'll have to pick something, or forgo a wonderful opportunity. Someone with your marks could have any internship he desired. Stop being stubborn, and consider your options."

"I'll think about it, ma'am," he replied tightly, wanting the meeting to end already.

"Very good. And start thinking about it now, Sirius. You are too talented to be selfish."

He gave a reluctant half-smile, and nodded to her before leaving.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

In the late afternoon, Annabelle sat at the end of Sirius' bed, her legs crossed and her Potions book open in front of her. She'd been venturing into his room more frequently lately, usually in the daylight hours, but he was glad for the change. Sometimes they would nap together (she was too modest to do more, knowing the lads were about) and it would be the highlight of his day - her head against his chest, a leg draped over him, asleep in his arms.

For now, though, they were memorising a set of Potions for the coming exam. Annabelle had no trouble remembering lists; it was the actual properties of the ingredients that confused her. She knew that to make Sleeping Draught she would need four sprigs of lavender, two blobs of flobberworm mucus, and four Valerian root sprigs, but she had difficulty understanding why those specific ingredients, brewed in a specific order and duration would yield the desired results. She always joked that if she'd been a muggle, she would have failed Chemistry, but Sirius thought she just needed to relax. She got herself too worked up, and in effect, blocked all understanding. That was his theory anyway.

"Potions Anxiety," he'd called it the day he explained his theory to her. But she laughed it off, and went back to panicking over the dangers of mixing dried goosegrass with silverweed extract.

Now, he found himself waiting for her to say she was ready so he could quiz her. She'd already gone through the list once, and she'd only made two mistakes, but for someone who had said she wasn't going to take the N.E.W.T., she was certainly dedicated to passing the class exam.

When they were finished, she closed her book and stretched out her legs, resting them on top of his.

"You can come closer," he said, sending her a suggestive grin.

"But-"

"But James is off being head boy somewhere, Remus is probably in a broom cupboard with Claire, and Peter is crushing Rosier's little brother in chess. We have the room to ourselves."

She frowned slightly and pulled her legs in, hugging them to herself.

"Was it something I said?" he asked.

"No, of course not… but I want to ask you a question."

"Go on, then."

"You have to promise not to get angry."

The only time she wanted him to promise not to get angry, was when it was impossible not to get angry.

"Just ask."

She hesitated, pulling at a thread on the sleeve of her top. Then, in a timid voice, she asked, "Did you and James tell Gavin Travers that Teagan Travers is dating Evan Rosier?"

Sirius furrowed his brow. "No. He already knows."

"Did you tell him she shouldn't be with Evan, that Evan was dangerous?"

"No. He already knows that as well. One of Rosier's brothers is always at the Hogshead, ranting about muggles. Aberforth tosses him out about once a week."

Annabelle nodded slowly. "Huh. Okay, then."

Sirius narrowed his eyes, not liking where the conversation was going.

"Why do you ask?"

"He mentioned… you know… that Gavin told Teagan's family he was bad news."

"Why were you talking to Evan Rosier?"

"It wasn't by choice. He approached me in the library after you left today, and told me he thinks it was you and James that told Gavin about him, since he doesn't even know Gavin personally."

"Like I said, Gavin has seen his brother about. And he remembers what a little wanker Evan was, he didn't have to know him personally for that. But what if we did tell Gavin what a scum his cousin is dating?"

"Sirius, I'm not accusing you of anything. You'd be right to warn your mate. But Evan thinks you're the reason her parents want her to break up with him, and he told me to tell you _challenge accepted."_

"When were you going to tell me this?"

"As soon I sufficiently weighed the pros and cons of telling you at all. If he hadn't said _challenge accepted,_ I might not have told you, because I knew you'd get upset, but he made a threat, so I couldn't _not_ tell you either."

Fury flashed in his eyes. "That fuckwit."

"Sirius… "

"That fucking piece of shit! How dare he even speak to you? Who the hell does he think he is?"

Annabelle remained silent, and Sirius knew she was probably regretting her decision to tell him. But how could she understand Evan Rosier, or the whole class of pureblood pigs that littered Slytherin House? She was raised by a wizard whose views couldn't have been more different than theirs - a wizard whose name alone was a derogatory word in most pureblood homes.

"Next time he talks to you, walk away. Find Madam Wigworthy. Lock yourself in a storage cupboard until he slithers off. Just don't talk to him, because Gavin is right. He's dangerous."

"Maybe he's just grief-stricken. Muggles killed his father, so maybe it's all just for show, like-"

"For fuck's sake, did he tell you his whole life story?" Sirius' voice was growing louder and angrier with every word.

"No, just that his dad was trying to protect the local muggles from a magical beast, when some muggles robbed and killed him."

"So all muggles should die because of a few muggles' criminal act? That's like saying all wizards should die because of Voldemort and his Death Eaters!"

She flinched, and pulled her legs in closer to her chest. "I'm not defending him, Sirius. In fact, I told him all muggles weren't the same. I'm just trying to understand… trying to make sense of all the madness."

"Merlin, do you…" He ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Do I what?"

"Do you fancy him?"

She squinted in disgust. "Are you kidding? Of course not! But if you have to ask that question, what am I doing here with you?"

"Jesus, Annie, you certainly make a lad wonder, keeping it from me, then telling me all about his family's plight-"

"It's not like we sat around chatting like mates! I wanted him to go away. I _told_ him to leave me alone! That doesn't mean I can't feel sorry for someone who lost a loved one!"

His face was pained as he nodded. "You're right. I'm sorry I suggested it."

He took a deep breath, yet it was so hard to remain calm, knowing Evan Rosier was attempting to lure her into his poisonous web. It made Sirius sick to think of any of those guys getting close to her, playing on her sympathies, even under the guise of friendship, just to turn on her in the end.

"And I know you want to enlighten the ones like Rosier," he continued, "who on the surface just seem misguided, but you can't enlighten people that embrace the darkness. You think the Carrows are the only psychos round here? The Rosiers openly support Voldemort. They don't hide their devotion to him."

She climbed onto his lap, her knees hugging his hips as she slid her thumb and forefinger down a strand of his hair. "I just wish they would open their minds, see that we're all human. Then Voldemort would have no one to do his bidding."

"I wish that as well." He pulled her closer and she slipped her arms around him. "Just promise you won't talk to him anymore. Or any of them, all right?"

She nodded against his head, and he kissed her shoulder.

"Do you not trust my love for you?" she asked softly in his ear.

He felt a lump rise in his throat, but couldn't tell her that while losing her to death was his biggest fear, losing her to another came in second. Most of the time they were so good together, and he had no doubt what they had was unbreakable. But occasionally, when he was having a bad day, one in which the memories of his past were at the forefront of his brain, or after trying to defend her against the Slytherin slobs just to be met with her disappointment, he wondered if she would find someone more suitable to an O'Neill, someone who didn't come with a legacy of violence and shame. He usually succeeded in chasing the thoughts away, but they never left him completely.

"Sirius?" She pulled back and looked at him, her hands on his cheeks. "Please tell me you don't think that lowly of me, that I could want someone like him. Good god, _Evan Rosier? Blech_."

Her eyes sparkled with tears, and he felt awful for what he'd said. How irrational for him to suggest, to think for even a second, that she would ever fall for someone like Rosier. This was Annabelle, _his_ Annie, and she never gave him any reason to doubt her.

"I don't, sweetheart. It was… temporary insanity or something… ridiculous of me to suggest. I didn't mean to insult you that way. He's just so sleazy, and I wouldn't put it past him to come on to you or something."

"Even if he did, he wouldn't have a chance because you are the only one, the only one I think about, the only one I want." She took his hand and held it to her heart, tears spilling down her cheeks. "And I worry about you so much… and now this challenge rubbish…"

The way her eyes searched his made his chest ache. She loved him, and she would be crushed if anything happened to him. It was still such a wild idea to him - that someone could love him as much as she did.

"If it makes you feel better," he said, her tears crushing him, "I won't respond to his challenge." It was a small concession. He didn't want to add to her worries.

"You mean it?"

"Yes, I do. Now, enough talking about them." He slid his hands under her top, rubbing the soft, warm skin of her back. "We're wasting precious time."

A small smile formed on her lips, and he kissed her, hoping to convey how much she meant to him, and how desperate he was to protect her from Evan Rosier and his kind.

As Annabelle reached for the bed curtain, she had a similar thought. Protecting Sirius from more suffering was vital to her. He had been through far too much already. But he wasn't the type to run from a fight; she knew that, no matter how many promises she drew from him. She also knew if those boys harmed another hair on his head, she might go mad.

"I love you so much," she whispered to him as he guided her onto her back. "Please trust me."

"I do," he breathed into her neck, "I do trust you. And I love you, more than anything."

He unzipped her skirt, and she shimmied out of it, kicking it to the end of the bed. She went to work on his shirt buttons, and he kissed her again, harder, their fear of the unknown making every touch that much more urgent, every breath more precious than the last. As he unbuttoned her blouse, he kissed the hollow of her neck, and she allowed him to transport her to a place where nothing else mattered but the moment, and the overwhelming love between them.

* * *


	7. I Told You So

 

The week's assignment for Defence against the Dark Arts had been to practise casting a Patronus, but the charm was so advanced and difficult, it wasn't a priority for any of them. Professor MacMillan had demonstrated many times, casting a silver horse which made some students scream when it trotted above their heads and away into thin air. He told them the memory he used to conjure the Patronus was dancing with his wife on their wedding day, which was only a year prior. After a chorus of "Awws," mostly from the girls, he added that before he met his wife, his Patronus was a boar.

"You had an affinity to hairless pigs before you met your wife?" Bernice Parkinson, Florence's younger sister called out.

"I was a bit of mess before she came along," he replied with a self-deprecating chuckle, "so I suppose you could say that," Nothing rattled him, not even stupid questions from rude students. "But the point is, your memory has to be exquisitely happy, something so pleasing, it has taken root in your soul. Once you find it, focus becomes the next most important step."

Lily, Alice, and Annabelle had practised in their room on a few occasions, but ended up in fits of laughter over each other's intense facial expressions when speaking the incantation, which didn't do much to help them focus. Phyllis said her sister Dorcas could cast one since she was fourteen, and Alice suddenly worried that since she couldn't yet at seventeen, maybe she wouldn't get to be an Auror after all.

"It will happen when you least expect it," said Phyllis. "That's what my sister told me. You'll be ready to give up, you'll have tried so many times, then it will happen. We have to keep trying."

The boys had also practised, and James managed to produce a small, incorporeal one, but the others had no luck.

"You said you could cast a full one," said Peter.

"No, I said I did it once, two years ago," corrected James. "I don't even know how I did it. I'd been working on it all summer and nothing. Then one night Padfoot and I were in my room, and bam. Silver Stag."

"He's not lying, I saw it with my own eyes," confirmed Sirius.

"I asked Flitwick if he could give me some pointers," said James, "but he said it's not part of the curriculum. Hope I didn't get MacMillan in trouble."

"Nah, it's not like MacMillan's marking us on it or anything," said Sirius. "I don't see how attempting to teach it could hurt."

"You'll get it again," said Remus. "Just have to focus more."

"I for one am going to figure it out," said Peter. "Not taking any chances with a war on. The more defence techniques I know, the safer I'll feel."

Sirius had only made a half-hearted attempt at the charm. Distractions gnawed at him, and even his happy memories were tainted. Quidditch memories connected the dots between threats from home; visits to the Potters' were wedged between beatings and verbal abuse from his parents; even his memories of Annabelle, which were permanently rooted in his soul, were tinged with self-doubt. He knew any one of his happy memories would be substantial enough to produce a Patronus if he could only concentrate on one of them long enough, without intrusive, negative feelings taking his mind captive, but the lingering feeling of darkness stained everything good in his life.

The problem was, people expected him to succeed, and failing would be mortifying. If he didn't really try, then he couldn't fail at it. So he decided not to try.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

On Thursday, Professor MacMillan called on volunteers to cast the charm with his guidance. Peter's was the first hand in the air, and after a brief conversation with the professor, he gave it a go.

" _Expecto Patronum!"_ Peter intoned, but nothing happened. Snickers erupted from the class. Someone called him an "eejit," presumably one of Carrow's crew.

"Like any of you can do better," he muttered as he sat back down.

"A brilliant effort, Mr. Pettigrew," said Professor MacMillan from where he sat on the edge of his desk. "And very brave of you to volunteer. As I've told you, it is not something one learns overnight. Who else would like to try?"

Esmeralda Roux, Delilah Burke, and Edmund Kittle volunteered, but not one was successful. The professor continued to encourage, and when it gradually dawned on the class that it was indeed a difficult charm to cast, the snickering at fellow students' failures faded fast.

"The only way to achieve the Patronus Charm is through committed practice," MacMillan said. "Daily practice. Sometimes it takes weeks, sometimes years. But it doesn't happen at all without practice. Let's have someone else."

Not a peep was heard as the students hung their heads, trying to avoid eye contact with the young professor.

"Come on now, there's nothing to be ashamed of. A strong effort is all I ask of you."

Their nerve had also faded, and no one volunteered. James exhaled, ran a hand through his hair, and pushed back his chair.

"Great, Mr. Potter, let's give it a go," said the professor. Lily, who was seated in front of him, (since the professor let them sit wherever they pleased, unlike Jaeger) smiled at his confidence.

He conferred with the professor, and MacMillan stepped back. James closed his eyes, focused on his chosen memory, and after a moment he called out the incantation. But nothing happened. Lily glanced at Annabelle, who shrugged as if to say no big deal.

"May I try again, sir?"

"Of course."

James closed his eyes again, trying to concentrate, but when he was about to speak the incantation, someone in the back of the room made a rude noise, causing several Slytherins to burst into laughter. Lily could tell by Damon Wilkes' overly straight face it had been him. James lowered his wand, said something to the professor, and returned to his seat. Lily was incensed, but James didn't seem bothered.

"You gave it good try," she whispered to him.

"Yeah, but it's not going to happen here with these knob-heads. I'll try again when I'm alone or something."

Professor MacMillan wasn't about to let the rudeness slide. He crossed his arms over himself and gazed in the direction from which the sound had come. The class quieted, because it was the first time he had ever been displeased with them.

"I'd like to say a few words, if you don't mind, about respect." He strolled down an aisle as he spoke, his voice calm. "This is a classroom… it's where we learn. We do not have to be friends with everyone we meet. We do not have to like everyone we meet. But when you are in this classroom, you are asked to respect everyone's right to learn." As he walked, he made eye contact with every student, minus the ones who were too cowardly to look him in the eyes, like Damon and Bernice. "However you behave outside of academic hours is on your consciences, but so you know, I expect better from my seventh-years. In here, you will abide by a simple, effective policy of respecting your classmates. Are we understood?"

"Yes professor," the class replied in unison.

"Good. I'm glad to hear it. For your weekend assignment, let's try again. Practise casting a Patronus. We won't be spending much more time on it in class, as I've been instructed by the headmaster to educate you on the dangers of the Dementia Curse, and any others that might have slipped your former professor's attention, so make the weekend count."

There was another minute before the bell rang, and the sound of students gathering their belongings and talking in hushed voices ensued. Sirius turned sideways in his chair and stared past James to the other side of the room where the majority of Slytherins were seated. Annabelle turned in her chair to talk to him, but his eyes were focused on Damon.

James also noticed the direction of Sirius' gaze. "Don't worry about it, mate. He's a dolt who knows he'll never be able to pull it off so he messes me up instead."

"He's a dolt all right," replied Sirius.

"You want to go practise now?" Annabelle asked him, hoping to take his attention from spooky Damon.

"Eh, I don't know," he said. "I still have to finish the Transfiguration assignment."

They had a six-foot paper due the following week on the benefits and drawbacks of human transfiguration. Professor McGonagall had meant it when she told them that in seventh-year, they would work harder than all their years of school combined.

"So do I," said Lily. "I don't know how I'm going to fill two more feet of parchment."

Annabelle traded amused looks with James; they both knew Lily would not only finish the required assignment before everyone else, but would probably score the highest mark in the class.

The bell rang, and as they exited into the corridor, Sirius was quiet, lost in his thoughts.

"You okay?" Annabelle asked.

"Mmhm."

Amycus, Damon, and Evan brushed past them, and Evan turned around as he walked. "Expecto Patronum," he said in a high-pitched, whiny voice, then fake cried as he turned back around, his mates jokingly patting his back.

"That isn't even what happened," James muttered. "I wasn't upset."

"Jealous toe-rags," said Lily. "They just wanted to see you fail."

Sirius' jaw was set, but he remained silent. Annabelle hated seeing him so aggravated with the trouble-makers, but he had to see how childish and unworthy of his attention they were.

"Don't let them get you down," she said to him. "They're like twelve-year-olds."

"I won't," he replied. A forced smile followed.

She wondered if maybe he was still dwelling on her conversation with Evan, which would hurt her if he was, but she wasn't about to bring it up again. A moment of misplaced jealousy was normal from time to time, she told herself. She'd been guilty of a bit of jealousy here and there as well; girls still ogled Sirius like he was a piece of chocolate-covered toffee from Honeydukes. Evan Rosier didn't even like Annabelle, and Sirius would realise that soon enough.

"I'm going to my room," she said, deciding to get some work done. She figured once he brooded for a bit, he'd feel better. "I have some things to finish up."

"Okay, I'll meet you in the common room before class."

And they went their separate ways.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Family Day was on Saturday, and an hour before the Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw match at ten o'clock, James and Lily sat in Professor McGonagall's office, discussing activities for the coming year. Their parents wouldn't be visiting this year - James' mum was recovering from a rather debilitating bout of the Black Cat Flu, and Lily's parents were meeting Petunia in London for wedding dress shopping. It was just as well; they were busy and there was nothing for their parents to see that they hadn't seen every other year, and nothing to learn about the school they didn't already know.

Lily blocked the thought of Petunia and her dress shopping out of her mind, and focused her attention on planning a fun event for the student body. The general morale of the school had been low due to the influx of scary Voldemort news, and Lily thought having something to look forward to might help students to cope, and give them something to smile about.

"How about a book of the month club," suggested McGonagall. "Students could vote for a book, and we could meet monthly for discussion and tea." Lily and James glanced uneasily at each other and Professor McGonagall's smile evaporated. "Books are a wonderful way of escaping the harsh realities of life," she explained.

"Of course, ma'am, books are wonderful for that sort of thing," Lily assured her, "but…" She flinched a little, not wanting to dismiss the professor's idea altogether, and looked to James for help.

"We were thinking of something a bit more lively," he said. "You know, more interactive."

"Book clubs are interactive," said McGonagall.

"Yes, they are," agreed Lily. "I think it's a wonderful idea and we should do it. But maybe we could hold a social event, in addition to a book club."

She folded her hands on her desk, and said in a clipped tone, "Tell me what you have in mind."

"Well, at our last meeting with the prefects," Lily said, "they were rather keen on a haunted house."

Mona had wanted to hold it in the undercroft, but James reminded her it was off-limits, which she already knew. She was only saying it to be a pest. Her best pal Alecto had lost her prefect status after her outburst at the second meeting, so Mona had to take up the slack by being extra annoying.

"A haunted house?" repeated the professor. "But, the castle is already haunted."

"That's true, but the ghosts aren't really scary," James replied. "And Peeves is just annoying…"

"The prefects want it to be more of a house of horrors," said Lily. "It won't involve ghosts."

McGonagall furrowed her brow. "But you said you wanted to take the students' minds _off_ the news of Voldemort. Do you believe a house of horrors is a suitable means of doing that?"

"It's not going to be about real things that are happening," said James. "It's just going to be some cheap thrills."

McGonagall gave a slight shake of her head. "Cheap thrills?"

Lily tried to explain, even though she had been against the idea at first, for the same reasons as McGonagall. Voldemort provided enough horror. But the prefects said they had asked around, and everyone loved the idea.

"Thrills," Lily said, "like harmless scares. No one is in any real danger, so it's like entertainment."

"Student volunteers would put it on," said James. "Mostly prefects and anyone else who wants to take part. We could have it on the Saturday before Halloween, so we would have all day to get ready."

Professor McGonagall considered it, and after several more questions on her part, she reluctantly caved to James' powers of persuasion, or his begging, rather. Her biggest requirement was permission slips, so if a child ended up traumatised by the event, the parents couldn't hold it against the school.

"I can only imagine the horrors you'll come up with," she said, eyeing James suspiciously.

"Thank you, Professor," he replied proudly, feeling encouraged by what he took as a compliment.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Late the same morning, James and Sirius sat in the Quidditch stands after their second match of the season, enjoying a few moments of solitude before heading back to the castle. So far, the Gryffindor Quidditch team was undefeated, as they had just destroyed Ravenclaw. Annabelle reminded them not to get cocky, that there were four games left, but they couldn't help dreaming of finishing school with an undefeated season under their belts. What a legacy to leave behind.

James sighed wistfully. "If I die before you, have me cremated and spread my ashes over the pitch, okay?"

Sirius felt his insides squirm. "No one's dying. Don't talk that way."

"I don't mean right now," said James, "But we all gotta go sometime. So if I go first, you know what to do."

"Sure. Whatever you say."

"You know, unless Lily objects. You won't want to upset her more in her time of mourning."

"Merlin, would you stop being so morbid? You're giving me the heebie jeebies."

James laughed. "I'm just trying to express how much I love this pitch. It would be a great place to spend eternity."

"Can't argue with that."

The weather was turning colder and the trees had begun to resemble partially clothed skeletons. A crow called from the top of one of the goal hoops, then winged away, disappearing into the forest. Sirius grew nostalgic as well, sitting next to his best mate, the person with whom he'd grown from a wild, irreverent child into a young man, in the place which formed some of their most cherished memories. Quidditch had been more than a sport for them, it was a common bond that transcended their different upbringings. He would miss playing Quidditch with James.

"So," James said, pushing his glasses up. "Lily and I are in charge of planning a haunted house for the Saturday before Halloween."

"For the first and second years?"

"No. For everyone."

Sirius cringed. "Sounds cracking."

"You're going to help, by the way."

"The hell I am."

"Come on, mate," James pleaded. "We need all the ideas we can get."

"Does it have to be tame for the first years, or can it be really scary?"

"The scarier the better."

Sirius grinned. "That's more like it. I'll see what I can come up with."

"Oh, and costumes at the Hallowe'en feast this year. Lily's idea, bless her."

"I draw the line at costumes, Prongs."

"So, I was thinking, maybe you could dress up as Snivellus. We could make some holes in your robes, and you could go without trousers underneath. Use an enlarging spell on your nose, smear some grease in your hair, and there you have it."

"I said no costumes."

"Don't be an arse. You're dressing up."

"What are you going as?"

"I don't know. Lily wanted to do some couples thing like Lancelot and Guinevere."

"No one will know who you are. You'll just look like a medieval couple."

"That's what I said. She also suggested you and Annabelle be Robin Hood and Maid Marian."

Sirius coughed a laugh. "Again, no one will know who we are."

"That's what I said. Then again, if you wore green, and-"

"I'm not wearing tights, so you can bloody well forget that idea."

"I convinced her it was a naff idea," James said with a chuckle. "But I'm on my own now, for a costume I mean."

"Good luck."

"So, as I was saying, maybe you could be Snivellus."

"Not a chance," he said. "I want to scare people, not make them vomit. Besides, Lily might take offence."

James rolled his eyes. "Lily doesn't talk to the git anymore."

"Still."

"So what are we dressing up as?"

"Hmm…. Let's talk to Moony and Wormtail. Because they're not getting out of this, either."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Isn't that Phyllis up ahead?" Lily asked, as she, Annabelle, and Alice walked toward the stairs that led to the owlery.

They had spent Saturday afternoon in the library, finishing the exhausting Transfiguration essay and getting caught up on letter writing. Lily wrote to her parents, Alice to her parents and Frank, and Annabelle to Matthew, whose letter she would send via Mrs. Evans. She also had a letter from Johnny B. to post.

It appeared Phyllis also had a letter in hand, and they were about to call to her when Alecto Carrow and her mates stepped into view from an adjacent corridor. Phyllis passed between them, but didn't make it far before Bernice Parkinson cast a spell to trip her. She fell flat on the ground, her arm bent underneath her. Lily, Annabelle, and Alice ran to help her, their wands wielded in case the Slytherin girls got any ideas.

"It's like the beginning of a bad joke," Alecto said, a smug grin on her face as they approached. "A mudblood, a blood traitor, and a mutt walk into a pub."

Mona let out a sharp cackle. "More like the beginning of a tragedy."

Lily knelt beside Phyllis while Annabelle and Alice kept their wands trained on their adversaries. Phyllis winced in pain as she held her arm, and she had tears in her eyes, but was making a great effort not to cry.

"I think you broke her arm," said Lily, turning to glare at them. "Why can't you leave people alone?"

"How about I break your arm next, loser?" replied Alecto. "Return the favour for what your nasty boyfriend did to my brother?"

"Your brother, who says vile things and lashes out at the blink of an eye?" Lily countered. "Spare me."

"Did he hurt Potter's poor ickle feelings, Gryffindork?" mocked Alecto. "We all know how sensitive you lot are."

Annabelle kept her wand aimed at Alecto, and Alice went to Phyllis's other side and helped her off the floor. "Let's get her to Madam Pomfrey."

Alecto regarded Annabelle like she was a joke. "Put your wand down, you abomination," she snarled as she finally started walking away. "You're not scaring anyone."

The words "make me" were on the tip of Annabelle's tongue, but she held back.

"Thinks she can chase us out of here like she did Elsinore, right, O'Neill?" goaded Bernice.

Mona grinned. "She had to get rid of the competition or else loverboy might stray."

"Come on, Annie," said Alice. "Don't listen to them."

Annabelle backed away slowly, not ready to turn around completely in case they had more tricks up their sleeves. Their comments about Elsinore had no effect on her, but the threat to break Lily's arm wasn't as easy to dismiss.

"Tell your moronic boyfriends to proceed with caution," called Alecto. "I don't take kindly to filth of their kind ganging up on my housemates."

Annabelle stopped walking, astounded she could be blaming what happened in the library on Sirius and James.

"Pardon?" she asked, a hand cupping her ear. "Because it sounds like you think your brother and his mates are victims, which has to be the most laughable thing I've heard all week."

The amusement was gone from Alecto's face as she reversed direction and walked towards her. "You heard me. I'll personally scalp Black then hang him from the rafters by his bollocks if he touches my brother again."

"Like hell you will," said Annabelle.

"Annie, ignore her," warned Lily.

"Just you wait and see," Alecto snarled, "you half-breed mutt."

_"_ _Impedimentia!"_ Annabelle cried out, and Alecto was jolted backward, landing with a thud on her side.

A half-second later, Mona aimed at Annabelle and shouted, " _Sectumsempra_!" but Annabelle ducked it, the curse narrowly missing Alice. Lily and Alice let go of Phyllis, and jets of light started flying.

_"_ _Manus Debilitus!"_ Alice cried twice in quick succession, her wand aimed at Mona's hands. They instantly stiffened, her wand slipping from her paralysed grip. Annabelle tried to disarm Alecto, but she evaded the attempt with a shield spell, taking a moment to gloat afterwards.

"Slow as molasses, O'Neill, slow as-" but Annabelle had expelled the girl's wand before she could finish her taunt.

Annabelle was about to blast her again, but her own wand was pulled from her hand. She didn't bother to see which hag did it. Instead, she charged into Alecto, toppling her to the floor, tearing at her hair.

" _I'll scalp you right now_ ," she fumed, her knee pressed into Alecto's stomach to restrain the unarmed girl. "If you or any of your half-wit housemates go near him, I will _rip_ your hair out with my bare hands. All of it!"

Alecto tried to pry Annabelle's hands off her head, and managed to claw at her face a few times, but Annabelle's grip was locked, and no amount of bucking or spitting on Alecto's part would make her let go. "Fucking bitch!" Alecto shrieked desperately.

Holding Alecto's shoulders down with her elbows, Annabelle grabbed another fistful of hair with her other hand. "You are nothing but a brutish, foul girl whose goal in life is to hurt people," she raved, her face inches from Alecto's. "Well I won't let you, do you hear me, hag? _I won't let you!"_

Lily squeezed Annabelle's shoulder. "Stop Annie. The others ran to get back up. Let's go."

"I have your wand," said Alice. "Come on, let her crawl back under her rock."

Annabelle didn't know what came over her, but the layer of fear she had been encased in seemed to break away, or maybe it was being channelled through her fingers, still yanking fiercely at Alecto's hair. She didn't want to let go. She wanted to hurt the girl. She wanted her to cry. Yet as soon as a tear sparkled in Alecto's right eye, Annabelle's heart leapt into her throat, and she opened her hands, scrambling off the girl.

"What's going on here?" shouted Madam Hooch, who happened to turn down the corridor just in time to see the girls fighting.

Alecto clumsily got to her feet and ran, holding the crown of her head where Annabelle had pulled the hardest.

"Stop, Carrow!" Hooch called, and when Alecto didn't listen, she locked her legs.

Annabelle stared in horror at her shaking hands. She hadn't actually intended to rip out Alecto's hair, but several dark brown strands clung to her fingers anyway like coarse spider webs.

"What did I do?" she asked to no one in particular, her breath catching in her throat.

"Don't freak out, all right?" whispered Alice. "You pulled her hair. That's all. She started it."

Madam Hooch took Alecto by the arm, unlocked her legs, and dragged her to where the Gryffindors stood. A lump was rising on the side of her forehead where she had hit the floor.

"Look at yourselves," said Hooch. "You, all scratched up, and you with a giant egg on your head. Where is your self-control?" When neither girl answered, she said to Alice, "Please alert Professor McGonagall and ask her to meet us in the hospital ward."

"That psycho cursed me to the floor then tried to rip my hair out!" Alecto protested.

Annabelle's mouth dropped open. "You and your mates broke Phyllis's arm and threatened to break Lily's! Not to mention what you said you would do to Sirius!"

"Enough," said Madam Hooch. "Start walking."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

While the girls were in the library, James, Sirius, Remus, and a reluctant Peter took the opportunity to slip out of the common room and sneak down to the dungeons. Remus had fully recovered from the recent full moon, so as a group, they were at full strength, which was important in case their plan failed.

"Remember," said Remus. "A truce doesn't mean surrender. It means peace. For everyone, including the girls who never asked to be a part of this fight."

Sirius couldn't believe he was going along with this _truce_ idea. Carrow and Rosier didn't want peace, but James reckoned it was worth a shot. Head boys who were constantly brawling did not remain head boys for long, so Sirius understood James' need for the Slytherins to stop antagonising. His other reason for giving it a shot was that Annabelle would be safer if it worked, so he went with it, despite his gut feeling it would backfire in their faces.

"Diplomacy is the best way to deal with the enemy," Remus added. "The best non-violent way, that is."

When they reached the door of the Slytherin common room, Remus and Peter took their places, hiding just out of sight in case the plan didn't work and they needed to take the Slytherins unsuspecting. The corridor was dim except for the light of a few flickering torches, and it took their eyes a moment to adjust as they waited for a Slytherin to come along. When Faustus appeared a few minutes later, Sirius knew he would do them the favour, since they'd spent Christmas together at the castle the previous December and got along fine for the most part.

"Listen, mate," said Sirius. "We need you to tell Amycus Carrow and Evan Rosier to come out here. But don't tell them who it is."

"What if they aren't there?"

James smirked, having checked the map. "They're there, trust us."

"What if they want to know who's out here?"

"Tell them you don't know who were are," said Sirius.

"What if they ask for a description?"

"Merlin, kid," snapped James, "just tell them you weren't paying attention! Now go!"

Faustus whispered the password, which was in Latin, but Sirius didn't catch it. All he caught was the "us" at the end, but even if he had heard it, it would be changed as soon as Carrow and Rosier discovered who was waiting for them.

They kept their wands ready, just in case. The door creaked opened and Evan was the first to poke his head out. When he saw James and Sirius, his face broke into an arrogant smile.

"Ah, to what do we owe this great honour?" he sneered as he stepped out, a scowling Amycus right behind him. "Come to finish getting your arses beat?"

James choked out a laugh. "What's it like to be so delusional?"

"If you came for your girlfriend," Amycus said to James, leaning against the door frame, "you just missed her. I'll spare you the dirty details, but she had smile on her face when she left, that's for sure."

He thrust his pelvis back and forth a few times to drive his point home. Evan laughed out loud while James rolled his head around in a circle, trying to remain calm. It was the same old tactic, yet it boiled his blood every time.

"I don't know if I can do this," he muttered to Sirius, tightening his grip on his wand.

Sirius' stared at Amycus, a simmering rage in his voice as he said, "Nice try, except everyone knows you Carrows only screw your blood relatives. Isn't your dad also your uncle?"

"Let's finish this," said Amycus, pushing past Evan, his chest puffed out as he approached Sirius.

Before he could get close, James' fist shot out and struck Amycus in the jaw, causing him to stagger sideways and fall to the floor. Just as Amycus raised his wand, Peter stepped out from behind a suit of armour.

_"_ _Expelliarmus!"_ he said sharply, and Amycus' wand flew from his hand.

As Sirius wrenched Amycus up from the ground, Evan moved to defend him, but James aimed his wand at Evan, stopping him in his tracks. As Evan raised his wand to strike, Remus came out from behind a tapestry and disarmed him.

" _Locomotor Wibbly!"_ James called out, causing Evan's legs to buckle as though made of jelly, and Remus put him in a headlock. Meanwhile, Sirius held onto Amycus from behind and pressed his wand into the Slytherin's neck. So much for diplomacy.

"Listen, you fucking mouth-breathing thug," seethed Sirius. "If you ever attack my girlfriend again, or _any_ girl, I will hex your goddamned nuts off."

Amycus pushed back, but Sirius' wand dug deeper. He slammed the Slytherin into the wall, gripping him under the chin, his other hand still pushing the wand into his neck.

"And keep your perverted, idiotic comments to yourself, do you understand me, pig? You're an embarrassment."

Amycus' eyes flashed with hatred, and possibly a bit of fear because Sirius had the advantage, but he didn't speak because of the grip Sirius had on his windpipe.

"All right!" shouted Evan, who was trying to pry Remus' arms off of him. "The girls are off limits – I'll make sure he leaves them be. Now let him go!"

"Get your… hands… off me," Amycus grunted, his face turning red.

"Your word first!" demanded Sirius.

"Yes," said Amycus. "You have… my word."

Sirius let him go, but couldn't resist smacking him on the head once for good measure. Amycus rammed into him, punching him in the eye as he smashed him against the opposite wall.

" _Immobulus_!" James shouted, and Amycus went still. When the Jelly Legs curse wore off, Evan broke loose of Remus' headlock. Four wands shot out, aimed directly at him.

"Wait!" Evan said, backing up, his hands raised in surrender. "We said the girls are off limits, yeah? I'll see to it he won't do that again. Nor speak of them in a foul manner, or have anything to do with them!"

Sirius slowly rose from the floor, his eye swollen and the back of his head throbbing from where it collided with the stone wall. Stepping round the immobilised Amycus, he warned Evan. "As for you, keep away from Annabelle. Don't tell her your sob stories, don't whine to her about your sorry love-life, and don't use her to deliver your pathetic messages to us." He grabbed him by the ear, his wand digging into his chest. "If you so much as look at her again," he said in a slow, hushed voice, "I will _fucking slaughter you_."

The tiniest hint of a smile crossed across Evan's lips. "Whatever you say."

Sirius twisted Evan's ear, then shoved him back. He was so angry, he almost punched him, but voices echoed from somewhere in the dungeons. It took every ounce of self-control Sirius possessed to say to his mates, "Let's go."

James pointed his wand at Amycus' half-open mouth. " _Purificus!"_ he shouted, and Amycus' mouth bubbled with bitter soap suds that spilled down the front of him and onto the floor. "That should help clean your filthy mouth."

Remus leg-locked Evan, and he and Peter winged the boys' wands down the corridor, cracking them in the process.

"Fucking bastards," Evan growled, but was powerless to punish them.

The four Gryffindors backed away down the entire length of the corridor, their wands still aimed at the Slytherins. When they reached the stairs, they bolted, and ran straight into Professor Slughorn.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Madam Pomfrey treated Phyllis first, and Madam Hooch stayed with Alecto lest she try to flee. Alecto was putting on a good show, holding an ice pack to her head and moaning in pain.

Annabelle sat with Lily a few beds away, her face stinging from the scratches, regret overtaking her. What had possessed her to stoop to their level and do the very thing she'd cautioned Sirius about time and time again?

"I'm a hypocrite," she said.

"Don't do that to yourself, Annie. It's a waste of energy."

"All right, but what did hurting her serve? She is still a vile excuse for a witch…"

"She deserved it," said Phyllis as she walked over to them, her arm healed. "You were speaking the only language she understands."

Lily and Annabelle were not used to hearing their normally cheerful, childlike roommate speak so bluntly, and they fought to supress their grins.

"I say well bloody done," Phyllis went on. "Next time, I'll help you finish the job."

"Well then," said Annabelle, giving a resolute nod, "if Phyllis says it was deserved, then who am I to argue?"

Lily giggled. "Wow, Phyllis, I like this no-nonsense side of you."

"My sister faces people like her every day, so her threats are personal to me."

It was easy to forget Phyllis had her own reasons for loathing the bigoted purebloods. Her mask of happy innocence rarely came off, but underneath it, there was a girl who feared for her sister. Dorcas was a skilled Auror, but Phyllis must have been crazy with worry anyway.

"Now you're going to be in trouble," Annabelle said to Lily. "Head girls aren't supposed to fight."

"They do if they're defending themselves and their friends," Lily replied.

"Miss O'Neill," called Madam Pomfrey. "I'll see you next."

After cleaning the scratches, Madam Pomfrey dabbed her face with Dittany, which would be very difficult to hide from Sirius.

"Keep it on for an hour. Miss Carrow! You're next."

Suddenly, the door to the hospital ward flew open, and they whipped their heads about to see a still raging Amycus being ushered in by Slughorn, followed by McGonagall who had Sirius by the arm. The rest of boys gathered in the doorway, waiting for orders from their heads of house.

"Boys, you will join me in my office immediately. Girls you will wait outside my office with Professor Slughorn until I am ready to see you! Poppy, send the rest of these hooligans to me when you are finished with them."

"This should be fun," Lily whispered to Annabelle as they started for the door.

Sirius had been scowling at Professor McGonagall's grip on his arm, but his sullen expression disappeared when he saw Annabelle.

"Annie?" he said, breaking free and rushing over to her. "Your face - what happened to you?"

"Long story," she said in a quiet voice, embarrassed in front of Professor McGonagall. She lowered her head, but glanced in the direction of Alecto. Sirius followed her gaze, and his eyes narrowed.

"She did this to you?" he demanded.

"Yes, but I doubt she will again. And your eye?" she asked, placing a hand on his cheek. "Merlin, Sirius, that looks painful." She glared at Amycus, and the same rage from earlier bubbled up inside her. "He's nothing but a caveman," she spat.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. "Miss O'Neill, I haven't got all day."

"Sorry, ma'am." With a concerned glance at Sirius, she left with the others.

Madam Pomfrey healed the gruesome twosome first. When she was finished with them, Amycus charged into the corridor without a look back, but Alecto peered at Sirius, trying to intimidate him. He smirked and shook his head, the fire in him diminished.

As Madam Pomfrey treated his eye, a heaviness settled over him. He should have resisted Carrow's taunts, at least until they attempted the truce. Annabelle would think him a thug like the Slytherins. Like his own father. She wouldn't stand for such barbaric behavior much longer. And if James lost his head boy status, Sirius would blame himself, even if James had punched Carrow. They should have stopped there, immobilized them, and left unscathed. Annabelle would be gutted when she heard how they had sought out the Slytherins, even though he only did it in the hope of protecting her.

Everything felt futile to him. Casting Patronuses, internships, even fighting with the Slytherins. His head was throbbing, and he suddenly felt like he was made of lead. Even holding his eyes open was a chore.

"Take this, Mr. Black," she said, handing him a small vial. "It's for the pain. I'd prefer for you to return to your dorm to rest. I'll inform the deputy headmistress."

"Thank you ma'am," he replied, before dragging himself into the corridor. He had the fleeting thought that the Carrows would be waiting for him, but he knew they were too afraid of their parents to instigate any further, at least at the moment.

When he reached the portrait, he struggled to remember the password. Was it Glumbumble or Gurdyroot?

"Oi," a voice called out from below.

Sirius turned to see Remus and Peter ascending the stairs.

"What's going on?" Sirius asked. "Where is everyone?"

"The girls are with McGonagall now," replied Remus. "James is waiting for them."

Sirius was almost afraid to ask what punishment they received. "And?"

"And, he's still head boy. But he had to tell her the nasty remarks Carrow has been making. There was no way around it. She threatened to use Veritaserum if we didn't tell her exactly what happened. We got away with two weeks detention and no Hogsmeade next month."

"She was so disgusted when she heard the stuff he said about Lily," said Peter, his face crinkled in amusement. "She must have said " _Oh my word!"_ about twenty times! You should have seen her face!"

"You're warped, Pete," said Remus, shaking his head.

Sirius didn't laugh, not only because he didn't find anything funny about the situation, but because he couldn't. Smiling would require too much effort. Remus said the password, which turned out to be Glumbumble, and they stepped through the portrait hole.

"Right, well, my head is killing me. I think I'm going to lie down for a bit."

He was glad the girls weren't back yet, because he didn't think he could face Annabelle right then, knowing it was his fault her face had been clawed up, his fault for being a second-rate pureblood and for having enemies who wanted to hurt everyone close to him. Sleep would be a welcomed break from himself, and he went to his room.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Professor McGonagall finally released the girls after an ongoing back and forth between the lot of them. Alecto claimed they hadn't tripped Phyllis, that it was a coincidence and Phyllis must be clumsy. It was easy to tell by McGonagall's raised eyebrow that she didn't believe her. By the time each of the seven girls were heard and argued with each other, McGonagall let them go with the same punishment she'd given the boys – two weeks detention, and no Hogsmeade in November.

On the way back to the tower, they rehashed what had happened with Alecto and her friends, and then James filled them in on what happened with Amycus and Evan.

Annabelle learned Sirius had gone to the Slytherin dungeon with the intention to make peace. She couldn't be angry with him, not after James said Amycus started it, as usual. After everything that had been going on with the awful boys, she couldn't fault him for fighting back this time, because she understood. The same protective instinct had overwhelmed her that afternoon. She still didn't think fighting solved anything, but she knew she needed to be more understanding of Sirius.

Remus and Peter were seated in the chairs by the fireplace, and Johnny B. was sprawled out on the sofa looking morose.

"Where's Sirius?" Annabelle asked.

"Upstairs," said Remus. "Says his head still hurts."

"Carrow's got the strength a troll," said Peter. "Smashed him into the wall like a rock."

"After Sirius could've blasted his head off and _didn't,"_ James clarified.

The imagery was too much for Annabelle. She loathed Amycus Carrow – he was a savage menace, just like his sister.

"Mind if I check on him?" she asked the boys.

"Of course not," said James.

She went to her room for her cloak and removed her shoes, so she wouldn't be heard on the stairs, then stopped in the bathroom to wash the dittany off her face. When she arrived at his room, she discovered him sound asleep on his bed. He looked so peaceful and she couldn't bring herself to wake him. As she turned to go, she tripped over a shoe and stubbed her little toe on the leg of his bed.

"Shite!" she squeaked, and fell back onto the bed, holding her throbbing toe in her hands.

Sirius' eyes blinked opened, and when he saw her on her back, clutching her foot and her eyes squeezed shut in pain, he lurched toward her.

"What happened?" he gasped.

She rocked forward and doubled over, pressing her forehead onto her hands, which were still holding her foot. "I stubbed my toe on the fecking bed is what happened!"

Sirius tried to breathe normally. "Merlin, Annie, that's not the way I like to wake up."

"I'm sorry. When I saw you were sleeping, I tried to leave quietly."

"You didn't have to leave," he said as he climbed over and positioned himself behind her, his body hugging hers. "Let's have a look." He reached in front of her and slipped the sock off her left foot. "It's a bit red," he said as he gently rubbed her toe, "but I think poor toe will recover."

His gentleness. His concern. His unyielding love for her. She understood the split inside him, the need to vindicate himself, to escape his family's hostile shadow, but the shadow grew by the day in the form of his enemies. Gentleness. Violence. That he was capable of the former after being raised on the latter only proved how remarkable he was.

His chin rested on her shoulder, and she reached behind him to rub the back of his head.

"Next time," he said, "just lie down with me instead of sneaking away."

"Next time, put your bloody shoe away."

He let out a chuckle. "It's James' bloody shoe, but I'll pass the message on."

She smiled a little, but it faded quickly. "I just want you to know, I'm sorry, for not understanding your side of things. She made me so angry, Sirius. It felt awful, but … I just… _snapped..._ and after a short duel, I ended up pulling her hair. A lot. So, it turns out you've been right all along. They don't want peace… and I guess this is where you say I told you so."

"No, I won't, because now I understand where you were coming from before. All those scratches on your face… I'm sorry you got tangled up in this mess. I wish I had been there-"

"You can't follow me everywhere. And I'll have you know I won today's round. We handled ourselves just fine."

"All right, champ. Just don't take their bait again, yeah?"

"I'll do my best."

He moved around her to her side and took her hand, lacing his fingers with hers.

"What did she say to upset you?" When she gave him a sheepish look, he said, "Go on, you can tell me."

Annabelle looked down, reluctant to repeat Alecto's words. "She said she would hang you from your bollocks… after she scalped you."

There was a moment's pause, then they cracked up laughing at the ridiculousness of the threat. Not that Annabelle would put it past her to try, but she wouldn't likely succeed.

"Ah well, it's only hair," he said. "You'd still love me if I was bald, yeah?"

She slipped her fingers through his silky locks. "It would take some getting used to, but yes, I would. Would you love me if I was bald?"

He wrinkled his nose. "Hmm, I don't know," he said. When her eyes went wide, he laughed. "Of course I would love you. Might be nice, actually. No more cries of 'Ouch, you're on my hair!' when we're in bed together."

"Excellent! I'll book my appointment with Alecto straightaway."

He smiled, but she could see he was still burdened by something. His shoulders were slumped, and his face was drawn, like he was carrying too much.

"What is it, Sirius? Talk to me."

"I just feel like it's all my fault, because I don't act the part of a proper pureblood. You didn't ask to be one of their targets. I made you one."

Annabelle blew out a breath. She hated the way he always turned on himself when things got difficult. As though all bad things could somehow be traced back to him. In moments like these, she wished she could unleash a chimaera on his parents.

"Don't be silly," she said. "Even if you were just like them, I would still be an O'Neill, and they would still hate me. The only difference would be I wouldn't have you on my side."

He seemed to ponder her words, and after a moment, he put an arm around her shoulders and kissed her head. "You will always have me on your side. That is a promise."

She looked into his eyes, and after a gentle kiss, she tightened her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder. A yawn escaped her, and he drew her down onto the bed, pulling her close. She ran a finger under his eye where the bruise had been, relieved that it was gone. Her loathing for the Slytherin boys was at an all-time high, and she wished there was a way to make them pay for all the times they sought to hurt him, or at least a way to make them leave him alone. To leave everyone alone.

"Toe feel better now?" he asked.

"Much."

"Let's stay here all afternoon."

His eyes were already closed and there was a slight smile on his lips. She pressed her cheek against his and closed her eyes as well.

"Do you think if we fall asleep with our heads together, you'll dream my dreams, and I'll dream yours?" she mused.

"Hmm, if so, I hope we trade the steamy ones."

"Me too," she said, grinning.

As he dozed off, she gave him another gentle squeeze, and then her own limbs slackened, tangled with his. Most of time, falling asleep was a chore for her, despite the draining Quidditch practices and relentless revising and assignments to be done. It was at night when all the repressed thoughts of the daytime hours came out to trouble her tired mind.

Lying in his arms, however, was more effective than any sleeping draught – his chest rising and falling under the palm of her hand, his steady breath more calming than any lullaby. The feeling of his body moulded to hers anchored her, tethering her thoughts from their usual anxious flights, and it took minutes instead of hours to drift into slumber.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Sirius," a voice said. "Wake up."

Annabelle woke to see Remus bending over them. As she sat up, Sirius stirred, rolling onto his back.

"Sorry," she said to Remus, as she swung her legs round to the floor. She wasn't sure why she felt self-conscious - all they were doing was sleeping.

"It's okay Annie," said Remus with a small chuckle. "I don't mind if you hang out in here."

Sirius rubbed his eyes and flung his arms over his head onto his pillow. "What's so important that you had to wake me from the best sleep I've had all week?"

"Dumbledore wants to see you."

"Why me?"

"Don't know. A house-elf delivered the message. But he said it's urgent."

Sirius yawned, stretched, and sat up.

"If this is about what happened today…" he grumbled. He had a fleeting fear he was about to be suspended, or worse for his involvement in the fight.

"You want me to come with you?" Annabelle asked.

"No, no," he replied as he put on his shoes. "I don't know how long this will take."

"You can't go alone with those idiots on the loose."

"I'll go with him," Remus offered. "I need to post a sign-up sheet for the house of horrors."

Annabelle pulled her invisibility cloak over her head and went downstairs with the boys, giving Sirius a kiss on the cheek through the sheer fabric when they reached the common room. He smiled and winked in her direction, then departed with Remus.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The gargoyle was already in the position to let them through, and when they reached Dumbledore's office, Remus sat down against the wall.

"I'll wait out here," he said.

"You don't have to wait."

"You know as well as I do neither of us stands a chance if their group caught one of us alone."

"All right," replied Sirius, "And thanks. Hopefully this won't take all bloody day."

He knocked on the door and it opened automatically. Dumbledore was at his desk, and seated in front of it was Andromeda.

She had tears in her eyes.

"Andy? What happened?" asked Sirius, his heart beating faster.

"Sit down, Sirius," said Dumbledore. "We have some news to share with you."

The door closed behind him.

 


	8. A Bit of Rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> solicitor (UK) = a type of lawyer
> 
> Warning: Graphic (pretend) horror descriptions.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Be still, sad heart, and cease repining;  
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;  
Thy fate is the common fate of all,  
Into each life some rain must fall,  
Some days must be dark and dreary.

_\- from The Rainy Day, by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow_

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Sirius exited Dumbledore's office in daze. He wasn't sure how to feel about the news he'd just received, or whether he should feel anything at all.

"Well?" asked Remus.

"Good news is, it wasn't about what happened earlier."

Remus exhaled in relief.

"Bad news is, my uncle's dead. An untreated Moke bite…"

Uncle Alphard, his mother's brother, and one of the rare disgraces to the Black name, was dead, the victim of a parasite contacted via a Moke that had bit him when he was tending his magical garden. When it happened, he had refused to seek treatment, saying in a letter to Andromeda that a Moke bite was the least of his concerns. The healers could have saved him, but by the time he realised he was sick, it was too late. He chose to keep his impending death to himself.

"Merlin, Sirius, I'm sorry to hear that."

Remus put a comforting hand on Sirius' shoulder, but Sirius casually shook it off, walking faster.

"I barely knew him," he replied. "No need to get all maudlin. We need to come up with some ideas for this haunted house. Want to do it now?"

Remus' brow knitted as he walked alongside his friend. "We can do it later, you know, if you're not feeling up to it."

"If I wasn't feeling up to it, would I have suggested it?" He jammed his hands into his pockets. "For fuck's sake, Moony, I'm fine."

He could see no reason to be upset over a man he hardly knew. A man who kept to himself for most of Sirius' life, neither corroborating with his parents in their mission to break Sirius, nor speaking against the abuse they inflicted upon him. It had only been recently, through correspondence, that Sirius had gained some insight into him. But truly, his loss didn't affect Sirius' life in the slightest, and he decided to carry on as if nothing had happened.

"Everything all right?" Annabelle asked cautiously when the boys stepped into the common room. Their friends were seated round a study table, revising for Potions.

"Sure. Everything's fine. So about this haunted house…"

Remus' anxious expression said everything was not fine.

"What did Dumbledore want?" Peter asked.

"Oh, he wanted tell me my uncle died. The decent one."

A small gasp escaped Annabelle. "Your Uncle Alphard?"

"The one and only. Andy's sort of upset over it. I guess she found out about it from Ted… someone he knows at work heard the news and passed it on. Should be in the Prophet tomorrow. She's been in contact with him longer than I have though, so she had grown rather attached… Moving on. Let's talk horror."

"Wait, how did it happen?" asked James.

The questions were starting to needle Sirius. "Apparently he was bit by an infected Moke while gardening, and a parasite took him."

His friends looked at him with furrowed brows and offered words of sympathy. His heart tripped in his chest.

"Come on, you all know I barely knew the man. Let's not make this bigger than it has to be."

Lily seemed to sense his discomfort, and opened her notebook. "Right, shall we come up with some ideas, then?"

"I'm ready," Sirius said, his relief visible. "I was thinking we could have a section called the insane asylum."

As Sirius talked, it became clear to Annabelle he was more rattled by the news than he was letting on. She looked to Remus, who glanced back at her uneasily, but the subject didn't come up again until they were on their way to dinner. Professor MacMillan was coming up the Grand Staircase as they were heading down, and stopped for moment.

"Sirius, I'm sorry to hear about your uncle's passing. How're you holding up?"

"Thank you, sir, but I'm holding up fine. Didn't really know him, so…"

The professor blinked, his pitying half-smile causing Sirius to look away.

"Right, well, I won't keep you, then."

"Thanks, professor."

"Are you sure you're all right?" whispered Annabelle as they passed through the doors to the Great Hall.

He nodded slowly. "Yes. Why shouldn't I be? Who was he to me, really? He was barely there."

"I know, but he said such nice things about you. You were just corresponding with him, and… Merlin… how unfair. Was there nothing the healers could do?"

"Moke bites aren't usually deadly, so he didn't bother getting it checked. By the time he realised what was wrong with him, it was probably too late to treat it."

Annabelle shook her head in disbelief. She had never met the man, yet he had given Sirius a spark of hope, and now there was one less person in the world whom Sirius could call family. Here one moment, gone the next. Death, in all its inevitability, would never make sense to her.

"It's okay if you feel sa-" she began, but she didn't get to finish, because Sirius had stepped ahead of her to accept a high-five from a sixth-year called Abraham Spinnet over the recent win against Ravenclaw. The two boys fell into a spirited conversation about Quaffles and blocks, the younger boy clearly impressed with Sirius' skill, and Annabelle knew it was her cue to drop the subject.

So she did. Maybe he truly was fine. Sirius had only exchanged a few letters with him, so it wouldn't be surprising if he wasn't affected by his loss, even if he had revealed in such a beautiful way he had been on Sirius' side all along. Sirius might have been disappointed their relationship would never have a chance to evolve, but disappointment was manageable compared to an all-encompassing grief, and she saw no reason to bring it up again.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The Saturday morning before Halloween was spent watching a Slytherin vs Hufflepuff match in the rain. Annabelle shivered, pulling her scarf over her face as raindrops dripped from the edge of her hood. Many students had left already, preferring the comforts of their common rooms to the windy water pelting their faces.

"We can leave, Annie," said Sirius. "No need to wait - Slytherin is going to lose."

Their arch nemesis had been oddly off their game this season, and Sirius couldn't help but wonder about it. With them stinking up the pitch, it made playing them less of a challenge, and without the challenge, much of the thrill was lost for him.

"It's only a bit of rain," Annabelle replied, refusing to open her umbrella lest she block someone's view. "I don't mind it."

"Yeah, it's just a muggle myth that witches melt in the rain," scoffed Peter, and everyone subtly rolled their eyes.

"This could go on all day, so I'm off," announced Lily. "Lots of work to do for the House of Horrors tonight."

Alice followed, holding a Hufflepuff pennant over her head. She'd borrowed it for the occasion. "I'll join you."

"Meet you down there," called Annabelle, her eyes glued to Slytherin seeker. After a moment, she said, "He's getting better, isn't he?"

"He hasn't caught it yet," Caradoc piped up from in front of her.

"And I doubt he will," said James. "Milo is the better player."

A few seconds later, Milo Knight, the Hufflepuff seeker, was knocked off his broom by Thornton Dolus, and a second later, Thornton caught the Snitch.

"What a tosser," said James, pulling off his glasses and wiping them on his shirt.

"He's nothing but a thug on a broom," muttered Johnny B.

"Typical," said Annabelle.

Their dampened spirits were lifted by evening, though, as they helped put the finishing touches on the House of Horrors. It had been agreed upon by all students involved that the North East Wing of the upper dungeons would be the best place for it, since it featured a series of vacant, connected rooms, and they could close them off for several days with no complaints.

The majority of prefects were excited about the event, so they had loads of help. Mona Nott and Neal Rosier were the only ones who didn't participate at all, not even signing up to serve refreshments. Alecto had lost her prefect position weeks prior, and they were standing in solidarity with her. Some of the professors had lent a hand with the more advanced effects, and it was looking to be a frightfully good time, despite Professor McGonagall deeming it inappropriate for the third-years and under, and thereby banning them from the event.

By four o'clock, everything was in place. The behind-the-scenes effects crew, who had the job of casting charms from underneath props or behind curtains, knew all their cues. James had managed to rope his friends into not only helping plan, but playing parts in the production, and they were eager to begin.

Professor McGonagall had been on hand to conjure a wood for the first section, called the Madman's Forest, since the seventh-years' conjuring skills had not advanced past the small objects level. Annabelle watched, awed at the ease in which she produced a forest so lifelike, one could smell the moss and hear the branches creak in the simulated wind. A subtle fog snaked between the Blackthorn and Evergreen trees, and owls hooted from above. There were even stars on the ceiling she had so meticulously enchanted.

"The fog is a nice touch, don't you think?" she asked Annabelle when she was finished.

"It's perfect, ma'am," Annabelle replied, taking it all in.

And it was perfect, from start to finish, she realised as she walked through it herself before it started. It began with a sign at the entrance which read, "Once ye enter here, there shall be no turning back," written in Gloria Henderson's crimson, dripping scrawl. The sign was not just for effect; it was meant as a warning, because once inside, the branches and leaves closed behind the students, urging them forward. Suddenly, a group of madmen, better known as Peter, Caradoc, Ravenclaw prefect Benjy Fenwick, and Slytherin beater and prefect Jacoby Ollivander (who had been the biggest advocate of the Haunted House idea) would stagger out from behind the trees with fake blood dripping from their mouths and onto their clothing, discoloured straitjackets partially restraining them.

The madmen would close in on the students, propelling them into a shadowy foyer, which was the entrance to the Asylum. A zombie-like receptionist, played by Lily, would rise from a desk and escort them into the Patient Recreation Area. There, the asylum residents – Sirius, James, Gloria, and Hufflepuffs Veronica, and Tamir would be wearing hospital gowns and wandering about the room, talking to themselves, smacking themselves on the head, and complaining of spiders crawling on their skin, while the torches flickered and a wireless radio emitted buzzing static sounds and the traces of ominous words, whispered in Latin. As soon as the students were in the centre of the room, the asylum residents would stop and stare at them, then instantly break into racking, tormented screams.

The receptionist would hurry them into the next room and shut the door behind them, leaving them alone. Called the "Post-mortem Room," there were piles of bones scattered about the corners, and in the middle, a floating stretcher with an asylum patient played by Alice, would be lying on it, supposedly dead. Remus was the healer, and he would be seen testing his wand in a corner, multi-coloured sparks flying from it, an evil grin stretched across his face. Once the students were sufficiently inside the room, he would stride towards the stretcher and pretend to cut into Alice, shouting the incantation for the severing charm. More sparks would fly, and she would sit up and scream, fake blood shooting out her mouth.

At that moment, the bones in the corners would rise up from the floor in the form of skeletons, and chase the students into a narrow maze-like passage, created with distorted mirrors which caused one's reflection to look monstrous, as well as transparent sections that revealed gruesome scenes of medieval wizard torture, frozen and illuminated for seconds at a time. Prefects and other participants would be on the other side, acting out the scenes, reaching through spaces to grab shoulders, and creating sounds of explosions, glass breaking, and hags cackling. Cobwebs with real spiders would greet visitors at every turn, and at the end of the maze, someone in a straitjacket would follow them, startling them into the next and final room.

It was called the Residents' Quarters, and upon entering, students would see two twin beds, and two girls in hospital gowns with ghostly faces and stringy hair, played by Annabelle and Claire, lying prone upon them. Annabelle would slowly sit up on her knees and whisper to the students, "If you don't make a sound, they won't hurt you." In the corner, another healer, played by Lloyd Gibbon, and a medi-witch played by Mira Shafiq would walk towards Claire's bed, chanting healing spells while holding a giant syringe labelled "Pain Serum." She would scream and kick as Mira strapped her to the bed, and as Lloyd pretended to inject her, she would go still. Mira would then approach Annabelle, who would begin to scream as well, and Lloyd would turn to the students, rushing towards them, syringe raised. The lights would go out, and the exit door would open. A sign was placed at the end of the asylum that read, "We'll see you tonight, in your nightmares!"

Hagrid would be waiting with a few other prefects, ready to calm anyone who might have had too much of a fright, and would direct them along the Jack-o-lantern lined corridor to the floor above, where refreshments would be served in a bright, festive classroom.

"Why can't we go in?" asked Zelda, who had been hanging about all day, trying to get a glimpse of what she would be missing. "We're not babies."

"Professor McGonagall says so," replied Annabelle. "That's why."

"She doesn't want you crying all night and telling your mum and dad about it," added Sirius.

"Why'd you have to make it so scary, then?"

He looked at her like she was daft. "What bloody fun is a house of horrors if it isn't scary?"

She pouted, but peeked round them to the entrance.

"Don't get any ideas," said Annabelle. "Flitwick is working the entrance. You won't get past him."

Zelda stomped off in a huff.

"Pain in the arse," muttered Sirius, even though he'd come to think of her as an annoying little sister.

"Time for one last rehearsal!" Lily called to them, and they went inside and took their places.

The rehearsal went off without a hitch. Lily had been right – with the planning, setting up, and practising involved in the production, no one had time to dwell on the war. Annabelle had almost forgot what it was like to focus solely on fun, and it was a welcomed diversion.

Sirius was also enthusiastic. The week's preparations had given him something to cushion the news of his uncle's death. Whenever it crept into his mind, something would require his attention – the charms for the wireless radio, the spiders needing help staying in place – and he would escape the shame existing just under his skin, feeding off his remorse.

He also wondered if Carrow and his crew would do something to ruin the fun, which provided another distraction, albeit an unwelcomed one. He figured they wouldn't, since some of their own considerably more decent housemates were taking part in the event, and a few of the professors who boarded at Hogwarts would be supervising behind the scenes. Catching the vindictive boys in an act of sabotage wouldn't be difficult, so they would be stupid to try. He hoped they would stay away altogether.

At dinner, the majority of students were buzzing excitedly about the event, their anticipation making Voldemort seem far away, part of another, crueller world. The participants had to eat and run. Esmeralda, Opal, and Dominica were in charge of make-up; Johnny B. opted to do hair despite Lily's pleas that he play a part, because he didn't think he could scare people without breaking character and laughing; and Professor Flitwick supervised, lending a hand when they wanted to charm teeth to grow long or sharp, cheekbones to protrude, or other such gruesome details.

Caradoc said he'd been to a fair number of muggle haunted houses over the years, but this was by far the creepiest, due to the magic involved, of course. No mask purchased in a muggle shop compared to the transformations done by magic. Lloyd Gibbon had complained it wasn't scary enough – he did so behind Lily's back, because he seemed to have a bit of a crush on her and would never purposely offend her - but Professor McGonagall drew the line at simulating a hole opening in the floor and flames in the shape of a Dementor bursting out of it. Everyone else was satisfied with how it turned out, and soon it was time to start.

The first group to go through consisted of several fifth-year Hufflepuff girls, and they screamed at the appropriate times, which pleased the cast and crew enormously. Throughout the event, everyone left quite satisfied with the scares provided. Only one boy, a fourth-year, had been truly traumatised, being dragged through the production by his mates while he covered his eyes.

As Lily waited in her position for another group to come through, she wondered how people could be so amused by fake horror. The real horrors of the world were not the least bit amusing, but she couldn't deny she too found the harmless scares entertaining. Maybe the thrill came with knowing it wasn't real. Or of being able to walk out of it alive, feeling victorious.

After almost two hours, Annabelle's throat was sore from all the screaming, but there was only one group left, so she would have to power through it. While she waited, she reached under her bed and grabbed a throat lozenge Professor McGonagall had provided for the "screamers."

"Good idea," said Claire, popping one into her mouth as well. "This is fun, but more painful than I'd expected."

"Suck it up, ladies," said Lloyd, examining his pretend syringe. "It's all part of the business. You must suffer for your art."

"Sure Lloyd," said Claire, supressing a giggle.

Annabelle smiled and shook her head, but the art of screaming was one she never hoped to master.

The torches flared once to signal the next group was approaching, and they got into position. The door opened and Annabelle slowly climbed to her knees, putting on her best "haunted" look. She almost groaned out loud when she saw who it was. Bernice Parkinson, Teagan Travers, and Neal Rosier with his smug smile gathered before her. Thankfully, Alecto and Mona weren't with them, but Bernice was almost as bad. She was such a follower, and she would do anything to be accepted by those vulgar girls.

Annabelle purposely looked past them and put a finger to her lips. "If you don't make a sound, they won't hurt you."

The torches went out for a moment, some careless mistake by the behind-the-scenes crew she reckoned, but after a few seconds, they reignited. Claire started screaming as Mira strapped her down, and Lloyd pretended to inject her. Her screams were the loudest they had been all evening; it seemed she really was suffering for her art, and Annabelle marvelled at the authenticity of her performance. She kept screaming, so Lloyd pretended to inject her again, this time giving her a light tap on the arm to remind her to be still. Instead, she wrenched her arms free of the straps and got to her knees, her screams so realistic that Annabelle went rigid. Mira and Lloyd looked scared as well, and still Claire screamed on, thrashing her arms into the air.

"Make them go away!" she wailed, tears spilling down her cheeks, the veins in her neck taut. "Please help! Where am I? Who are you?"

"Claire, are you acting?" asked Annabelle, breaking character and scrambling off her bed. Claire didn't answer, but put her hands over her ears and cried, her expression full of terror.

Lloyd's eyes went wide and he backed away from her, but Mira grabbed her wrist. "Claire, look at me and tell me you are acting."

Claire lunged for Mira, grabbing her by the throat.

"Stop – it – Cla-" Mira choked.

Annabelle grasped her hand, trying to pry it away from Mira's neck, but she couldn't get it to budge. "It's the Dementia Curse! My wand! Somebody get my wand!"

The Slytherins watched in horror, and Lloyd ran into the previous room, calling for Professor Flitwick.

"I have a wand," said Teagan, her face ashen. "It's Claritus, right?"

" _Yes!_ "

" _Claritus!"_ Teagan cried, but it didn't work.

"Try again!" Annabelle darted to her bed and fell to her knees, feeling underneath it for her wand.

Alice and Remus burst into the room, no doubt alerted by Lloyd, and pushed past the three Slytherins, inadvertently blocking Teagan's aim.

"What are you doing?" Remus asked Claire, his voice laced with fear.

Claire released Mira, who dropped to the floor as she rubbed her neck, trying to fill her lungs. Claire backed away and clung to the metal headboard, staring wildly at Remus. "Stay away from me, you monster!"

Her words ripped through him, and he went still as Teagan stepped closer. Her arm was shaking so much she had to steady it with her other hand. Right then, Professor Flitwick squeezed past the students, followed by the rest of the participants.

Flitwick surveyed the scene. "What in Merlin's name-"

" _Claritus_!" Teagan cried again, and Claire crumpled into a heap.

Annabelle found her wand at the same moment, and rested her head on the mattress in relief.

Remus sat down and pulled Claire's limp body into his lap, cradling her head. "Claire," he said as he tapped her cheek with his hand. "Wake up."

"There's an incantation," said Annabelle, remembering how Dumbledore woke Peter from Sirius' overzealous counterspell, but Claire was already opening her eyes, confusion distorting her usually placid features. She sat up straight, a look of panic on her face. "What happened? Was I dreaming?"

"You were cursed, dear," answered Flitwick. "Someone in the room seems to have a knack for the Dementia Curse."

Claire began to weep quietly, her whole body trembling. "It was like being inside a nightmare. So real, I thought for sure V-V-Voldemort was here."

Neal Rosier squinted in irritation and muttered to Bernice, "Of course it happens when we're here. I wonder who will get the blame?"

"Hmm, let me guess," Bernice mumbled back to him.

"Guilty until proven innocent," added Neal.

By then, the rest of the participants had made their way into the room.

"If it looks like a Slytherin and talks like a Slytherin," said Caradoc, his eyes narrowed on Neal.

"No one is accusing anyone of anything," said Flitwick. "There is a simple way to find out who cast the curse. Hand me your wands and make your way into the corridor."

Everyone who was in the room when it happened willingly handed their wands over and followed Flitwick into the corridor. They sat against the wall while he checked their wands for the last spell cast by each.

 _"_ _Priori Incantato,"_ he said as he held up Neal's wand, but the only echo was of a spot-squeezing spell, a popular one among acne-prone students.

"Blech," said Lloyd, grimacing.

"Like you've never had a spot, Gibbon," Neal snapped.

Each wand's echo was something harmless.

"Well, it appears we have a rather cunning witch or wizard in our midst," said Flitwick. "Dumbledore will get to the bottom of it, I'm sure."

He conjured a piece of parchment and a quill, and began taking down their names. Neal and Bernice didn't take kindly to his use of the word cunning to describe the culprit, since it was one of the pre-requisites to being in Slytherin House. They nodded to each other, stood up, and strolled toward the stairs. Teagan quietly followed, but Flitwick didn't bat an eye. He already had their names.

"Might as well reverse the charms on your faces," he said, and went around undoing their magical "make-up."

Alice was bitterly angry. Seeing Claire - sweet, innocent Claire - crying, and knowing they couldn't leave well enough alone, she shouted, "Where are you going? Running off to celebrate your success?"

"Go eat dragon dung," replied Bernice.

Alice bolted up and aimed her wand straight at her. "Look at me when you insult me! Grow a backbone of your own instead of being Alecto's little handmaiden!"

Bernice and Neal both drew their wands, as did everyone else. Flitwick instructed Teagan Travers to alert McGonagall, who was upstairs serving refreshments.

"Lower your wands!" he ordered, positioning himself halfway between Alice and Bernice. "All of you!"

"Listen to yer Professor," Hagrid warned.

Their wands remained raised until Neal lowered his and tapped Bernice on the arm. He whispered something in her ear, and she slowly lowered hers, her eyes still fixed on Alice. They resumed walking to the stairwell, as though nothing had happened, and were gone a moment later.

Hagrid bent over Claire and asked, "How're ye feeling now, Claire?"

"Aside from my head hurting a bit, I think I'm all right." As Remus helped her to her feet, she closed her eyes, holding her head. Steadying herself, she said, "Merlin, I thought I was going to be eaten alive by these hideous beastly things. I wasn't even here, at least not in my mind." She looked at Remus, her expression stricken. "Did I hurt you?"

"No," he said, his eyes focused on the red marks on Mira's neck. "You apparently thought we were the beasts, though."

"I did?"

"You called him a monster and tried to choke Mira to death!" Lloyd exclaimed.

"Oh, Mira, I'm so sorry! I didn't know what I was doing, I swear!"

"Shhh, I realise that," said Mira. "And I'm okay."

More tears spilled down Claire's cheeks. "Why would someone do this to me?"

"Probably the same reason they did it to me," said Peter. All eyes turned to him and waited to hear his reasoning. "I don't actually know the reason. I only mean it was probably for the same reason, whatever the reason is."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "The reason is they're copying their Death Eater heroes. Gotta start somewhere, right?"

No one disagreed with him.

Annabelle couldn't believe the nerve of Bernice Parkinson, no doubt sent by Alecto to do her dirty work, as Alice said. Or maybe it was Neal Rosier, sent by his brother as part of his "challenge." But why hurt Claire, of all people? Cursing innocent people and denying it - Sirius was right. It was like they were already in training to be Death Eaters.

By then, Professor McGonagall had been alerted and hurried down from the refreshment room. "I knew this was a dubious idea from the start," she said, shaking her head anxiously. Lily and James exchanged annoyed glances as the professor rushed to Claire's side. "Was anyone else hurt?"

Flitwick conferenced with her quietly, and when they were done, McGonagall reproached the group. "The Headmaster and myself will sort this mystery out, I assure you. In the meantime, you are to begin dismantling this- this- _asylum_ , instantly."

The students went to work on moving props and vanishing items that had been conjured. When they were finished, they retreated tiredly to their houses for the evening.

James and Lily accompanied Remus and Claire to Ravenclaw Tower, and they waited at the base of the stairs as Remus walked Claire to the common room entrance.

"I wish I didn't have to leave you," he said as he hugged her. "Especially after that."

"I wish you didn't have to leave either."

When he finally let go, she looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with tears. "Lloyd said I called you a monster… That must have hurt you."

"I know it was because of the hallucinations. Not because of what I am."

"I hope so, because you must know I reserve that word for actual monsters, not someone as dear to me as you are."

Remus gave a small half-smile. The word "monster" coming from her lips had hurt for a fleeting second, but once it was established she had been cursed, his attention, and his pain, shifted to Claire and what had been done to her.

"I know, darling. Don't let it worry you."

She took his face in her hands and said, "I love you… so much," before pulling him in for a kiss.

When their lips parted, he said, "And I love you. I still can't believe I'm allowed to say that to you."

"You'd better believe it."

"Meet me here before breakfast?"

She grinned and nodded, and after one more kiss, she entered her common room, while Remus joined James and Lily for their rounds.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The morning of the Hallowe'en Feast, Sirius received a letter, the return address indicating it was from Langley and Pomeroy Solicitors. Annabelle and Johnny B. had received letters from Matthew, which they promptly tore open. While they relayed bits of news to everyone from Australia, Sirius scanned his letter.

**I am hereby charged to inform you that Mr. Alphard Corvus Black, late of Tomlow-on-Itchen, had made assignment to you, his nephew, Mr. Sirius Black, the amount of**

Sirius stopped breathing, blinking several times in disbelief. For a moment, he felt as if his heart had stopped as well.

"He says the crisps are shitty but this stuff called Vegemite isn't half bad," Johnny B. was saying.

Sirius inhaled, then blew out a long breath.

"Vegemite?" repeated James. "Sounds foul."

The letter started to shake in Sirius' hand, and he squinted his eyes at the number, making sure the commas and decimal point were still in the same place. He knew his uncle was wealthy, but this – this was more than he could fathom at the moment. His trembling grew more pronounced, and he quickly folded the letter and shoved it back into the envelope.

"I don't know, would you try it?" Annabelle asked, looking at him.

"Try what?"

"Vegemite, if Matthew sent us some."

"Ah, sure, why not," he said with a breathy laugh.

Her brow creased, so he forced a smile, despite the sudden hammering of his heart. His uncle, who he had barely known, but knew anyway because they were cut from the same rotten cloth, had left him a fortune. His uncle had made a mistake.

For as long as Sirius had known him, Uncle Alphard had been a remote, solitary man, yet on the rare occasions he did visit, Sirius had always been glad to see him. There was an affinity between them; Sirius had felt it since he was a child, even though he didn't understand it, but he knew now it was because they were both different. They were nonconformists, regarded with suspicion and disdain by the majority of the family. His presence on special occasions felt like strength to young Sirius, like he had a quiet ally, and his parents would be too busy walking on eggshells around the strange, brooding man to bother picking their son apart.

The difference between them was Uncle Alphard had never been vocal about his opinions, at least not that Sirius would have known about, but in the few communications he'd exchanged with the man since leaving home, he had started to fill in the blanks of his uncle's life, and had come to the conclusion they were more alike than different. Sirius had hoped in the coming years he might get to know him better. Now it would never happen.

His heart clenched with remorse as he indulged his guilty conscience, the image of his introverted, anti-social uncle springing to life in his mind: a man living most of his life alone, with no one to trust, and a family who wished he would disappear of the face of the earth. What if Sirius and Andromeda had been his last hope for acceptance, for some semblance of family? What if he had the same scars as his exiled niece and nephew, but had been so screwed up by his upbringing he didn't know how to ask for their companionship?

And why was he thinking of all this now, when it was too late?

"Who was the letter from?" Annabelle asked.

"My uncle's solicitor. Lots of legal jargon about his will. I'll have a better look at it later."

"Maybe he left you something," she said, her eyebrows raising in anticipation.

"Why would he leave me anything?"

"Maybe because he liked you? Thought you were special? He had no children, and he knew your parents cut you off financially, so…"

"Right. You're probably right."

But Sirius didn't feel special at the moment. He felt like a fraud. It had to be a mistake, and believing that allowed him to eat some of his breakfast and force down a cup of tea.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

At the feast that evening, Sirius, James, Remus, Peter, and Caradoc surprised the girls with their costumes - what they referred to as the Bay City Zombies. Using the cover of one of Lily's Bay City Rollers albums as their guide, they managed to pull it off, right down to the hideous tartan trousers, purchased in the "modern" section of Gladrags Wizardwear. Their feathered hair that so many muggles wore was courtesy of Zelda and Twyla, who now had bragging rights for the rest of their school days that they got to do the seventh-year boys' hair, including that of the Quidditch team's captain, and dreamy Sirius Black. But instead of the clean-cut faces of the muggle band, the boys had painted their faces, and torn and dirtied their shirts to look like zombies.

"Genius," said Alice when she saw them striding through the double doors of the Great Hall. No wonder they had told the girls to go to the feast before them. They wanted to make an _entrance._

"We've always said we would die to meet the Bay City Rollers," said Annabelle, delighted by their resemblance to the band she and Lily had fancied for years. "Never thought they would die to meet us."

As the boys approached, they couldn't control their giggling. It was apparent from the wolf whistles and squeals around them that the majority of the female population, as well as some of the males, approved of their costumes.

"You look gloriously awful," said Lily, who looked rather frightening herself as one third of "Charlie's Hags," a spoof on the popular Muggle TV programme _Charlie's Angels_ her mum and dad watched. Alice and Johnny B. had never heard of it, but Annabelle helped Lily convince them to play along. Their costumes were made from garments purchased from The Treasure Trove - a thrift shop on the edge of Hogsmeade – which were then altered drastically according to a picture in an issue of Honey magazine with the help of Izzy the house elf. Johnny B. was "Charlie," and like the programme, no one could see him, but in his case it was because he had asked Dumbledore to cast a disillusionment charm on his head, and the old wizard had been happy to oblige. Annabelle thought he looked like the Headless Horseman in a leisure suit, on his way to the disco.

The boys were equally impressed with the girls' flashy, revealing costumes.

"You look…" James trailed off, redness staining his cheeks as he took in the "hag" with the voluminous ginger hair and a skin-hugging, royal blue jumpsuit that revealed more of her curves than he'd ever seen in the light.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," Lily teased.

Sirius was also a bit speechless, words unable to express his gratitude for Annabelle's short shorts and her shirt tied at the waist, exposing a peek of her midriff.

"Sirius, do I look ridiculous?" she asked, awkwardly trying to cover herself, but finding her hands and arms ill-equipped for the job.

"Yes. Ridiculously sexy."

"This was a bad idea. I feel naked in these shorts." Her face was pained as she began pulling at the hem, futilely trying to cover more of her thighs, and Sirius snapped out of his hormone induced trance. He couldn't stand to see her so uncomfortable.

"Let's sit down, then," he said, ushering her to the table and shielding her as best he could with his body as she swung her legs over the bench discreetly as possible. He noticed other male eyes staring in her direction, and a mixture of pride and contempt welled up in him – pride that she had chosen him, and contempt that they thought it was acceptable to stare at her.

"McGonagall is probably going to take points for every inch of flesh I'm showing," she whispered to him.

"Worth it."

She pursed her lips in an effort not grin, but when he dragged the back of his index finger along her thigh, she smiled and leaned in close.

"I wore this for you," she whispered. "I had a funny feeling you would like it."

Speaking of funny feelings, he was suddenly and rather uncomfortably aware of how tight his trousers were in the groin area.

"Well, I wore these idiotic plaid bell-bottoms for you. What do you think?"

"I think you wear them better than the Bay City Rollers. And the zombie idea was a nice touch."

There was a tap on Sirius' shoulder, and he turned to see Jacoby Ollivander standing behind him in a Yeti costume that appeared scratchy and hot. "Hey mate, sorry to hear about your uncle. My father offers his condolences… says he did business with him and that he was a decent chap."

"Thank you. But we weren't close."

After Jacoby had ambled off to flirt with Opal Ross, Annabelle asked, "Why do you keep saying that?"

"What?"

"That you 'weren't close' with your uncle."

"Because it's true?"

"All right, so you didn't know him well, but you cared about him, so it's okay to accept sympathy from people."

As usual, she had broken it down so simply, and he almost allowed himself to see it her way. He _had_ cared about his strange, distant uncle.

But the will… enough galleons to live a life not only in comfort, but in luxury if he wanted, from a man whose family had been repulsed by him. Ashamed of him. Sirius had done nothing special but hold similar views to his, and receive the same cruel treatment. He had never gone out of his way to know Uncle Alphard. Never reached out in the understanding that they were two of a kind until recently, and even then, what were a few letters compared to a real human connection? _Why didn't I do more for him?_ he chastised himself again.

"No, it's not okay."

"Why?"

"Because. Because I don't deserve-" He closed his mouth, unwilling to explain. Not because he wanted to upset her, but because the mood was festive, and his family issues had a way of raining on everyone around him. He was tired of feeling like a heavy cloud, looming over them, saturated with feelings he could barely manage on his own. For one night, he didn't want to be the one in constant need of observation lest he burst into a thousand hammering raindrops upon them.

"I really don't want to talk about this now."

"Fine. I'm sorry," said Annabelle.

She looked down at the table, and he could feel her frustration like heat off a cauldron. _Stop thinking about it. Change the subject,_ he told himself, in the hopes that if he appeared to be all right, he magically would be, thereby restoring her cheer. Mrs. Potter had called it "the power of positive thinking."

"Alecto Carrow is an ashwinder with legs," said Johnny B. as he plunked down across from them.

Sirius smiled, despite finding Johnny B.'s lack of a head strangely discomfiting.

"Is that what she's dressed as?" Annabelle asked, falling into a laughing fit.

"No, that's what she _is_. Tonight she's an ashwinder with legs dressed as Morgan Le Fay."

Sirius was grateful for Johnny B.'s humour, even though he wished he had been the one to make her laugh like that.

The Hallowe'en Feast – their last one, they acknowledged with some sadness – was much like previous years' in that it was the ultimate magical celebration. Bats swarmed around floating Jack-o-lanterns, a chaos of orange and black against the starry blue ceiling. Candles filled the spaces between overflowing serving platters and sparkling goblets, the ghosts performed their flying tricks, and for the first time in weeks, the Great Hall was filled with laughter.

Everything was as it should be, except Sirius' spirits. His guilty conscience wouldn't ease up. Instead of enjoying his last Halloween at Hogwarts, he felt the flood waters rising around him as he sank further into himself.

A voice cried out from across the hall, "You _wanking_ _centaur's arse!"_

The words came from a sixth-year Hufflepuff boy whose head was covered with custard. He stood up and scooped custard from his eyes, shaking it to the floor. Then he lifted the pitcher of pumpkin juice from his table and threw its contents in a horizontal motion, splashing the entire end of the Slytherin table's occupants with the thick, sticky juice.

There was a moment's confusion as to what was happening, but when food started to fly between the two tables, others started joining in. Within seconds, food and juice filled the air like a wild tempest of waste.

Lily cautioned her own housemates to stay out of it, but when the first glob of raspberry trifle landed on Johnny B's invisible head, Gryffindor took the battle to a new level. The boys, except for James and Remus, instantly grabbed fistfuls of whatever was before them, launching beans, blackberry crumble, mushy peas, Yorkshire puddings, and whole pieces of cod into the air, most of it nailing their prime target: the Slytherins.

Annabelle, Alice, and Lily crawled under the table, unwilling to be assigned more detention for something so childish, while James sat with his head in his hand, allowing the food to pelt him, but reluctant to scold anyone for contributing to the pandemonium, because if he wasn't head boy, he would have thrown food as well.

"That will be enough!" shouted Dumbledore from his podium, but the battle waged on. Some of the professors were hiding behind their chairs, and the braver ones, like McGonagall, MacMillan, and Sprout had come down into the fray in an attempt to stop it.

Less than a minute later, Peter joined the girls under the table, plate in hand, and continued to eat as though all hell hadn't broken loose above.

"This food is too good to throw," he said, his mouth full of roast beef.

"All that waste," Annabelle muttered, as Remus climbed under the table with them.

"Just when I was thinking I would miss this place…" he said.

Lily peeked up at James. "Why don't you join us down here?"

"I need for Dumbledore to see I'm not participating in this. Besides I think it's almost over. They're running out of things to throw."

A fist fight broke out between the Hufflepuff boy and Neal Rosier, and that was when Dumbledore stalked down from the podium and immobilised them. The food fight ended like a song on a record, fading rapidly to silence.

Annabelle couldn't find Sirius anywhere.

After sitting through a short but fiery lecture about their disgraceful and unappreciative behaviour, Hogsmeade was cancelled until further notice, curfew was changed to eight o'clock for all students during the entire month of November, and fifty points were taken from each house. Refusing to subject the house elves to the task of cleaning up, Dumbledore ordered the students to practise their scouring and vanishing charms on the mess. No one was allowed to leave until the hall was sparkling.

"Do you know where Sirius went?" Annabelle asked Johnny B.

"Didn't know he'd left."

"He told me he'd back," said James. "He's been off since he got that letter this morning."

"Did he say what it was about?"

"You know Sirius. He brushed it off. I was hoping you knew what it said."

As she waited to see if he would return, she scoured the cracks in the floor near her seat. Maybe he had gone to the loo. He might have got food in his eye, or felt sick from all the sweets he had absently grazed on all day instead of eating a bite of real food.

When he didn't return, she grew nervous, and told Lily she would be back. Then she scurried off before she could be stopped. Unless he was lying injured in a corridor somewhere, she reckoned he'd want to go to the one place where he wouldn't be found on the Map, to the same place she had chosen in her own times of grief.

She took a chance and entered the draughty stairwell without her cloak, making her way up the secret tower by wandlight, and stopped in the doorway. He was seated against the wall on the right side of the room, his knees raised and his arms resting on them. The light from his own wand lit the small space around him. He looked up when he realised he wasn't alone, and she saw the tears running down his zombie-painted cheeks.

"I knew you'd find me, Annie. I just had to get out of there."

"I wanted to make you sure you were okay. If you want me to go, I won't be offended." _Please let me stay._

"I hate to burden you with this stuff all the time."

"You are never a burden."

He ran a hand through his hair and tried to smile, but it looked painful. "You can stay if you'd like."

She crossed the room and sunk down next to him, taking his hand and lacing her fingers with his. She set her wand down, but kept it lit, and their shadows darkened the walls.

Just as she was about to speak, he smacked his other hand over his forehead. "Shite, I was supposed to return a book to the library today. _Putrid Potions_ – it lists potions by the fumes they give off. I've narrowed down what Snape was brewing that night to two possibilities."

She recognised his attempt to avoid the subject, considering she was rather skilled at it herself.

"I can return it for you. Wigworthy will never know it was late."

He swallowed and nodded faintly. "Thanks. Pays to have connections."

She rubbed her thumb over his and tipped her head to get better view of his face.

"You're allowed to be sad."

"No, I'm not. What right do I have? Honestly, I was doing a fine job convincing myself I didn't know him well enough to care, and I thought it was working… And then he goes and names me in his will… I don't deserve it. I wasn't there for him."

She looked down at his long slender fingers curled between hers, and wondered again why his uncle had to die now, right when Sirius was beginning to form a real connection with him. Fate was cruel.

"How were you supposed to be there for him?" she asked. "He was a recluse. You were a child."

"But recently, since being disowned… I could have asked to visit him. I could have done more-" His voice faltered and he stopped talking.

"Building a relationship takes time even in the best of circumstances. You were trying."

He stared at the floor, his shoulders bent and a hand on his forehead. She wished she could get between Sirius and himself the way one broke up a fight. Make him stop beating himself up inside.

"My grandfather hated him," he blurted out, fresh tears filling his eyes. "Nicknamed him 'Defectus,' which means "failure" in Latin, I gather because he failed most of his N.E.W.T.s and didn't go into the family vocation of dodgy investments and corrupt business dealings. But he wasn't thick – school just didn't interest him. He went into the hemlock business instead, raising his own plants and selling them to the Dafydd Doxycide Company. Once he'd made enough money, he bought a giant greenhouse and expanded to other plants, selling to potion makers all over the world. He didn't need my grandfather's support anymore, so he stayed away. The crazy thing is, he'd probably been bit by dozens of Mokes over the years."

"So he thought nothing of it."

"And now, he's dead. I wonder if my family will even have a funeral for him. He hadn't been disowned because he kept his views to himself and obeyed for the most part, but I imagine there were times when they came close to kicking him out." He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his forehead before opening them again, and saying, "I didn't know how he felt about me until the letter he sent me over the summer. I didn't know he was on my side."

"Exactly, Sirius! You didn't know. And you wouldn't have known if you hadn't reached out to him, but you did. You were making an effort."

"I can't stop imagining him, all by himself on that huge property of his, miserable and alone."

He put a hand over his face as though trying to block the image from his mind.

"Ah, Sirius," she said, "you don't know if he was miserable or alone. Maybe he was relieved to be away from his family. He might have had a few mates he trusted, or maybe he preferred the solitude, because he could live his life as he wished."

Sirius dropped his hand, but his expression was still distraught, his body racked with the struggle to make peace with what happened. Annabelle didn't know much about life, but death was an acquaintance she had made years ago when her grandfather was killed. She understood the remorse, the wishing she could take back the times she cheeked him, wishing for a chance to know him as a person and not only a granddad, and the most painful wish - one more chance to say "I love you," just to make sure he knew.

"And your letters might have been all he needed. He was a grown man, and if he'd wanted to be sociable, he would have been."

"Would he have? Maybe he was so used to rejection by his own blood that he didn't bother. Maybe he needed me to visit, to show him I wasn't harbouring any ill will towards him. To show him I didn't judge him like _they_ had."

"You don't think he knew that? You're still a student for goodness' sake, so I highly doubt he would've expected you to show up on his doorstep, or that he would've been comfortable if you had. You were reaching out, doing what you felt comfortable with, and that was enough."

Sirius stared at the floor, his previously feathered hair falling loosely around his face. Annabelle placed a hand on his chin, gently urging him to look her way.

"Please stop creating scenarios about him in your mind then punishing yourself over them. It's not fair to either of you. You lost someone you cared about, and someone who cared about you, as well. You have nothing to feel guilty about."

She took him into her arms, and after a while, a heavy sigh escaped him. Finally, he wiped his eyes on the heels of him palms.

"How do you do it?" he asked, giving her a frail smile.

"Do what?"

"Make me feel like I'm not a complete disgrace."

"Well, it's rather easy, you see, as you are _not_ a disgrace at all. And someone has to talk some sense into you," she said with a grin. "It might as well be me."

They stayed in the tower a bit longer, Sirius allowing himself to grieve, and Annabelle doing her best to provide some comfort. Eventually, she got up from the floor and offered him her hand. Their friends would likely be looking for them soon, if they weren't already.

"We should get out of here before everyone starts worrying."

He took her hand and they wound their way down the twisting staircase, but before they squeezed through the crack in the wall, she rose on her tip-toes and kissed his cheek.

"Now I can say I kissed a Bay City Roller."

He smiled and kissed her on the lips.

"A Bay City _Zombie_ ," he corrected. "Even dead we're better looking than those naff plonkers."

"Merlin, of course you are! No comparison."

He smiled proudly as they passed through the crack, and when they were out, he said, "You make an awful hag, though."

"Why's that?"

"Too pretty."

Her face broke into a grin and they kissed once more before discreetly making their way back to the Great Hall where the clean-up was nearly finished. The food fight had been a dismal end to a long, tumultuous week, but on the bright-side, Sirius felt the impulse to incriminate himself with if-onlys begin to weaken. He had also managed to avoid getting covered with flying food. It was something, anyway.

"I almost forgot – what did your uncle leave you?" Annabelle asked as they rejoined their mates. "Some hemlock plants perhaps? A few galleons for a set of work robes or dinner in a posh restaurant?"

He leaned in, whispering the answer in her ear, and she staggered slightly before he caught her by the arm.

"Did I hear you correctly?"

"You did."

"That will definitely cover dinner… for eternity," she said, and Sirius tipped his head back and laughed. The storm had been averted, and he hoped the forecast would show clear skies for the foreseeable future. But if his dark cloud threatened again, as it was liable to do, he was happy to be loved by a girl that didn't mind a bit of rain.


	9. Bittersweet

November arrived with the first cold snap of the year, along with a peculiar lull in the animosity between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Annabelle wondered if it was due to Amycus Carrow and Evan Rosier's wands being cracked, thanks to Remus and Peter, but she thought twice, knowing their families wouldn't let them go without functioning wands for long.

It was possible they were laying low; they had been caught fighting along with the Gryffindors, and then the Dementia Curse had been used on Claire in the House of Horrors. Dumbledore and McGonagall had no more luck catching the perpetrator than Flitwick had. Since the deed had been committed in a closed space with only a handful of students present, Dumbledore had already had narrowed his pool of suspects, and he warned that he would be watching them closely. Annabelle did not take his warning personally, because he knew she wasn't capable of such a heinous act, especially against a friend, but Neal Rosier and Bernice Parkinson, on the other hand, were.

"I need some good news," said Lily as she walked with Annabelle and Alice to Defence against the Dark Arts. "And don't say the wedding is good news. Please."

At breakfast, she had received a letter from her mother along with a wedding invitation. An opening had become available at the church Petunia had originally wanted to reserve for the ceremony. If she didn't take it, it would be unavailable for a year, so the wedding was moved to the weekend before Christmas.

"I can't believe she didn't ask you to be a bridesmaid," said Alice. "Her own sister, snubbed."

"I can," said Lily, her voice tremulous. "Merlin, all those years of being so close, of planning our weddings to Mick Jagger and Paul McCartney, of cutting out pictures of wedding dresses… It's all meaningless now. She threw me away."

She stopped walking and put a shaky hand over her eyes, fighting the urge to cry. She forbid herself from shedding another tear over Petunia.

"She's the one who is missing out," said Annabelle.

"Yeah," said Alice. "She must be mad to reject her only sister. You don't deserve it."

The boys caught up with them, and James carefully took Lily's books and parchments, stacking them on his own. Then he took her hand with his free one.

"Listen, Lil," he said as he tugged her along ahead of the others. "We can skip the wedding if you want. Play sick or something."

"If I don't go, everyone will talk, and my mum and dad will be crushed."

"Then we go, and we have a cracking good time. We don't need your sister's permission to enjoy ourselves." She nodded weakly, chewing on her upper lip, and James gave her a peck on the cheek. "I promise, you will be having so much fun with me, you won't have time to be sad."

"I'm glad you're coming with me."

He let go of her hand to put his arm around her, hoping he could keep his promise. The idea of attending Petunia and Vernon's wedding sounded as appealing as getting suffocated by a Lethifold, but he refused to give Petunia the satisfaction of knowing she hurt Lily again. They would have fun at that wedding. They had to, for Lily, whose pain over her sister had become his own.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

It was halfway through the month by the time their slew of detentions were completed, and the piles of school work kept growing. The only high point in the monotony was Gryffindor's winning streak in Quidditch, defeating Ravenclaw, followed by Hufflepuff for the second time. Mira Shafiq's strength was impressive; for such a quiet and poised girl, she had an obscene amount of power behind her hits, frequently knocking opposing players off their brooms. When the season began, Annabelle had been worried that without Fairfax, Caradoc would have to pick up the slack for a new, weaker player, but Mira was a force to be reckoned with, and the two of them made Annabelle's job a relative breeze.

On the third Saturday of the month when they would have been in Hogsmeade (if it hadn't been taken away as punishment for the Halloween food-fight), the common room was bustling, and the subversive programme "Veritas" was blasting from the wireless radio in the corner of the room. Mercury and Lux had just reported that members of Voldemort's inner circle were branded with permanent marks on the inside of their left forearms. These markings, referred to as "Dark Marks," allegedly resembled skulls with snakes extending from their mouths, and it was speculated they were being used as some form of communication with the Dark Lord, yet it was unclear as to how.

"Branded," said Sirius. "Like they're his property."

"Fucking idiots," said James sullenly.

"I sold my soul to Voldemort," joked Peter, "and all I got was this lousy tattoo."

They all laughed, despite the disturbing news, but it was nervous laughter. It chilled them to think of a devotion so strong to such a deranged wizard that one would willingly become his property, choosing to be marked for life with his symbol of hate.

By four o'clock, the sun was already setting into the mountains. They had spent most of the day in the common room working on assignments, but when James, Lily, and Remus excused themselves for a prefect meeting, the rest decided to take a break as well. Alice and Johnny B. began a game of Gobstones, and Peter picked up a game of chess with Edmund Kittle where they had left off the day before. Sirius turned the station on the radio to the WSN, the Wizarding Sport Network, and listened to National Quidditch scores with Caradoc, Mira, and Rory Finnegan.

Annabelle looked out the window and felt a melancholy settle in her chest as she watched orange and pink bleed into the darkening blue sky. Her mood was not due solely to Voldemort, but to the approaching winter, already announcing itself in the bare trees and the frost covered grass. There was something grim about the days growing shorter as nature fell into slumber. Dark days were approaching, and the students would be cooped up together in the castle for much of the season.

Sirius appeared beside her, and after scanning the view of the sunset, he turned his gaze to her.

"What's the story?" he asked, bumping his hip to hers.

She shrugged one shoulder. "I don't know. A bit bored, I reckon. And I hate the early darkness."

"I have some news that might cheer you up."

She raised an eyebrow. "Yeah? Please share."

He turned around, leaned back against the window sill, and crossed his arms over himself as he observed the activity in the room.

"How does a weekend in Paris sound?"

Her heart gave a surge. "When?"

"New Year's."

She looked at him, her mouth open a sliver. When he met her eyes in his proud way, she broke into a smile.

"How?"

"James' parents are taking us. Said we can each bring a guest. And before you ask - no, I am not James' guest, as Rosie has reminded me. If that was the case, he would pick Lily, much to my great sorrow."

He wiped invisible tears from his eyes, but his pretend frown quickly turned to a grin, and her heart surged again, about to burst with excitement.

"What about Remus and Peter?"

He stepped behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "As much as I would love to hold hands with them as we stroll down the Champs Elysees, or snog them at the top of the Eiffel Tower, I think I prefer to spend New Years in Paris with you. Trust me, they understand. So, what do you say? Ring in 1978 with me in the City of Lights?"

Annabelle was almost embarrassed by her dopey grin. She felt like jumping up and down and squealing, but she breathed through it.

"I would be delighted."

He paused for a moment to enjoy her reaction. Her cheeks had gone pink, her bleak mood replaced with a levity he hadn't seen in her for weeks. In turn, his own spirits lifted.

"We'll have to get permission from Lily's parents," she said, her smile fading. "I mean, since I'm staying with them this year, it's only proper."

"It's all sorted. Lily wouldn't let me ask you until she got permission, which she received this morning. She didn't want to get your hopes up. I was waiting to get you alone to tell you."

Her face, already painted with the warmth of the setting sun, lit up again, and he felt his heart thump in his chest.

"So you all knew?" she asked. "Sneaky little pixies, you are. But I can't let the Potters pay for me - I'll ask Dumbledore for an advance on my allowance, and-"

"They won't take your money, Annie," he said, giving her a squeeze. "I told them the same thing, and Jack wrote he would curse me with boils if I mentioned paying for myself again. Rest assured, money is not an issue for them."

"If you're sure…"

"I'm sure," he said, then placed a kiss on the slope of her neck.

She turned to face him, and tugging at his shirt, she said, "Thank you for asking me to be your guest."

"There was never another option. Now, it's time for your first French lesson. Repeat after me: _Embrasse-moi."_

_"Embrasse-moi."_

Sirius pressed his lips to hers, kissing her softly. When he pulled back, Annabelle remarked, "I like your way of teaching French, although I have no idea what I just said."

"You said, 'kiss me.' So I did."

"Ah, well in that case, _embrasse-moi_ again, please."

He laughed and did as she requested.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"You _must_ go to the top of the Arc de Triomphe," said Alice, at dinner. "That way, you can see the Eiffel Tower in your view of the city. Also, I know everyone says to visit Notre-Dame, but the Sacré-Cœur is breathtaking as well. And don't forget to stop at Ladurée for macarons - they are divine."

Lily's head was spinning with all the information. In her wildest dreams, she never thought she would go to Paris with James before they finished school, but it was just what she needed - something to look forward to. For the Potters, quick jaunts to places like Paris, Cote d'Azur, St. Moritz, and Lake Como were commonplace. A spontaneous excursion for the Evans family might have been going to Hornsea Beach for the day, or taking a drive through the Peak District, not whirlwind trips abroad. James was understanding though; many of his friends at Hogwarts were not wealthy, and thankfully his parents were down-to-earth and accepting of everyone James brought home with him. His mother, Rosie, was always volunteering her time where it was needed most, and his father, Jack, had set up a foundation to provide poor families of wizarding children with the required school supplies and an owl for communication purposes. Having such good examples as parents was probably why James had never defined himself by money.

"Who cares about standing on top of some building," said Peter. "You can fly on brooms for crying out loud. What's a building compared to that?"

Johnny B. rolled his eyes. "You can't fly over a crowded city in broad daylight, genius."

"You can if you know how to do a self-concealment charm."

"Okay," retorted Johnny B., "so why don't you self-conceal and get out more, instead of hiding inside all the time?"

"Yeah, why don't you?" asked Remus. "I'm sure you'd enjoy flying over Paris in the bitter cold of December."

Peter scowled and shoved a spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth.

"Are you staying in Rue Fantasque," asked Alice, getting back to the important stuff, "or in a muggle hotel?"

Rue Fantasque was the magical hub of Paris, similar to Diagon Alley, but a fair bit larger due to the massive, high-end wizarding department store Le Créneau.

"A muggle place called Hotel Étoile Montmartre," said James, his French accent causing Alice to wince. "It's near where my dad proposed to my mum, on the stairs of the Rue Foyatier."

Alice clasped her palms over her cheeks. "How romantic!"

Lily and Annabelle nodded in agreement, dreamy smiles on their faces.

"Rue Fantasque is too far out of the way for my parents' taste anyway. They like to be close to the action and the restaurants. They say France is the one place where muggle cooking is as good as, if not better than house elves'."

"It's true," confirmed Sirius, who was finicky when it came to food prepared by muggles.

"You've never had me mum's cooking then," said Caradoc. "Beats anything you can get here or anywhere." James pulled a face and Sirius laughed, but Caradoc wasn't bothered. "Laugh all you want, but it's the truth."

"Mrs. Dearborn is a great cook," said Johnny B. "Even Sirius would ask for seconds."

"I don't know how I'm going to concentrate on anything else," Lily whispered to Annabelle. "I'm so excited."

"Me too," Annabelle replied, barely containing her giddiness. She hadn't been on a real holiday since she was nine years old, at least not anywhere outside Britain. "This is going to be amazing."

"You aren't worried about Voldemort swooping down on you and ruining your fun?" asked Peter, a speck of potato flying out of his mouth as he spoke.

"Merlin," said Johnny B. "Don't talk with your mouth full. I already took a shower today."

"Raining on everyone's parade again," muttered Remus.

Peter made a show of swallowing before speaking again. "I'm just being realistic."

"He's not been active in France lately," said Annabelle.

" _Lately_ ," repeated Peter. "Doesn't mean he won't be."

Sirius glowered at him. For the first time in months they had something special to look forward to, and Peter had to try to ruin it, just because he was afraid of his own bloody shadow lately. The war was having a rotten effect on him.

"Would you stop already?" Sirius snapped. "Mentioning Voldemort a hundred times a day isn't going to make him go way. So how about you don't mention him when we're talking about Paris? Would that be possible?"

"Sod off," Peter retorted.

"Oh, so that's how it is, you little-"

"Stop, both of you," commanded James. "Pete, my parents wouldn't be taking us there if they thought it was dangerous. And Annie is right. Voldemort has been focused on Britain lately, so we're probably safer there than we are at home."

"And if you think hiding yourself away will protect you," said Caradoc, "you're mad, because he'll find you if he wants you bad enough."

"Exactly," agreed Sirius.

"Fine, I'll just shut up then." Peter slammed his elbow on the table and put his head in his hand, blocking them from his peripheral vision.

"Come on, Peter," coaxed James. "Don't be so dramatic. We know you meant well. "

"Yes," said Lily. "Thank you for looking out for us, but we want to have fun in Paris, not constantly be looking over our shoulders."

"Fine. Have a great time, but keep your wands close. That is all I'm trying to say."

"Good advice," said Annabelle, as her eyes darted to back to her plate. She would never get used to Peter's need to be contrary all the time.

Meanwhile, Sirius had to bite his tongue from arguing with him more. Warning them of Voldemort _swooping_ _down_ was quite different than suggesting they remember their wands. But the mood was already ruined, and the rest of dinner was subdued, as Voldemort became the focus of their thoughts, yet again.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

As their second to last Quidditch match ended with a win, a shared pride and nostalgia tugged at the hearts of the Gryffindor team. They had a huge point advantage, so the Cup was theirs, even if Slytherin beat them in their final match. There was something bittersweet about that knowledge which reduced them to teary-eyed hugs instead of their usual wild revelry.

In a week, there would officially be five openings on the team, more than there had been in years. The boys had made the team when they were young, so they had years of experience, which was partly what made them so strong. But Mira would continue the legacy, and Rory was improving with every match, so they knew they were leaving the team in capable hands.

Annabelle couldn't believe it was already December and they had gone undefeated. She owed her success as Seeker mostly to the boys, for they taught her everything she knew about the sport, and they showed her what it meant to be part of a something bigger than herself. She had learnt about carrying on when exhausted and ready to give up, and striving toward a common goal: making their beloved house of Gryffindor proud. What had started as a daunting prospect, something she was sure was a terrible idea, had become one of the best decisions she had ever made. And if nothing else, it had brought her closer to Sirius. That alone made it worth it.

"One more to go," said James as they flew into their station. He seemed at a loss for words; he was their captain after all, and as much Annabelle would have hated to admit it a year and half ago, he was actually pretty good at leading them.

"Then the record is ours, as well," said Caradoc, hardly containing his glee.

The record he spoke of was the first undefeated season in twenty-one years. And with Slytherin's sloppy, distracted playing this season, it looked promising.

The week leading up to the final match was fraught with stress. Internship applications, assignments to finish, and hundreds of pages of reading to complete warred with practice time. Their desire to bury Slytherin meant brutal drills that went on much longer than usual, sapping every last bit of strength from them. Fatigue became a constant companion, and they were usually asleep by nine o'clock, just to wake up at five and begin all over again.

The morning of the match, the team was itching with nerves. At least it distracted them from their emotions over the end of their Hogwarts Quidditch careers. Along with some of the players' parents, Fairfax had promised to be there with a few former team members, as did Andromeda and her family. It went without saying this wasn't an average match. It was their last one, and their last chance to beat their biggest rival.

"We can do this," said Mira to Annabelle on their side of the changing room. "Easy peasy."

"Yes. Easy peasy."

But Annabelle's lower lip began to quiver as the reality of the moment hit home. This was the last time she would get ready for a match, the last time she would wear her uniform with O'Neill printed in gold across the back, and the last time she would mount her broom in a tenacious quest for the Golden Snitch.

It was also the last pep talk James would ever give his team. As they gathered round him, Annabelle was a split second away from bawling, tears already wetting her eyes. She knew if she looked at her teammates, she would see her own expression mirrored back at her, so she stared at their feet instead.

James chewed on his thumb nail, the sounds of the frenzied crowd coming from beyond the four walls where they stood. Then he forced a smile and gazed up at the ceiling.

"Merlin, this is hard." He squeezed his eyes shut and gave his head a quick shake. "Right. I'll save the speeches for later. But I just want to thank you all, for your dedication, your _heart_ , and for playing this game with me. We are not just a team, we're a family…" His voice grew husky, but he continued. "And I couldn't ask for better brothers or sisters. Now let's go out there and show them one more time who's boss."

After their final cry of "We are mighty Gryffindor!" they took to the air, ready to fight.

Annabelle flew above her teammates, scanning the space around her for a glint of gold. She saw nothing, but it was only five minutes into the match and the Snitch liked to hide for a bit. She did a lap of the perimeter, doing her best to stay focused despite wanting to watch her teammates in action. She caught a glimpse of Sirius throwing his whole upper body into blocking a Quaffle and she had to force her eyes away. Too much of a distraction.

At the other end of the pitch, Evan Rosier had just missed a Quaffle Johnny B. had sent through the middle hoop. There was something about Evan which suggested he didn't seem to care anymore. There was no fire in him; he was just going through the motions. Maybe, since Gryffindor already had the Cup, he had given up. He lifted his head as she flew overhead, and there was something dead in his eyes. He made no rude remarks as he would have done the previous year. He only looked at her, or looked _through_ her somehow, then looked away.

Pain shot through her knee as a Bludger collided with it, almost taking her breath away, but she remained on her broom, meeting Amycus' soulless eyes as she zipped away from him. _Another haunted boy_ , she thought. Everything was becoming foggy, and she had a sense of wrongness, that something had shifted out of alignment somehow. She grimaced in pain, reaching down to rub her knee.

"You all right?" Jacoby Ollivander called as she flew within shouting range of him. Why he cared was beyond her. He might not have been one of Carrow's gang - in fact, he was rather nice compared to some of his housemates - but he was still on the opposing team.

"Fine," she replied, wishing the match was over already.

Then she saw it, a flash of gold to her left, and she flew downwards, hoping to come up underneath it before Thorn laid eyes on it. She had no such luck. Thorn sped toward it, and they were both about five feet from the Snitch when it zipped away, causing them both to turn sharply to avoid collision.

She tried to lose him – she hated when the other Seeker's strategy involved following her about the pitch. It was cowardly, lazy playing. James words echoed in her head, _Show them who's boss._ The crowd was going wild. She knew somewhere among the blur of faces was Fairfax, and she couldn't let him down. Even though he had finished school, this was still his team, and she was a product of his help and support as well.

With her teammates in mind, she took a deep breath and peered about for the Snitch. The day was overcast and cold, and her cheeks were beginning to feel raw. Snowflakes drifted slowly through the air for a time before disappearing, and after an hour, her eyes ached from the strain of searching for the little gold ball.

Soon, the clouds shifted, and there was sparkle near the far right Gryffindor goal post. Thorn, unaware of its appearance, happened to be flying away from it. Annabelle zoomed in Thorn's direction as fast as her broom could go. His eyes almost popped out his head when he saw her barrelling towards him. A second before she would have crashed into him, she jolted upwards, flying over him and speeding toward the Snitch. The crowd went wild, and she didn't look back, because she knew Caradoc and Mira would protect her. The Snitch darted sideways over the crowd and when she jerked her broom to follow, she saw Thorn, and he was gaining on it.

Suddenly, the Snitch dropped in front of the stands, and knowing she had no time to waste, she rolled herself upside down, her arm outstretched, and caught the Snitch.

The crowd's reaction was deafening, and she barely had time to flip upright again when her own teammates were upon her, hooting and hugging and raising their fists into the air. Sirius grabbed her by the face and kissed her, his skin warm and sweaty against hers despite the cold, and she was aware she had just gained another memory she could use for practise in casting a Patronus. It had already taken root in her soul.

"We did it!" James shouted, tears in his eyes. " _We are undefeated_!"

Not only was the Quidditch Cup and the undefeated record theirs, but because of their point advantage, Gryffindor had a massive lead in the running for House Cup as well.

"I never thought I'd see this day," wailed Caradoc, wiping his eyes on his sleeve.

"The best team won," said Johnny B. "Good conquers evil."

But all Slytherins weren't evil, Annabelle could recognise. Jacoby was sportsmanlike, and Teagan hadn't hesitated to help Claire in the House of Horrors. Even little Tabitha Greengrass possessed a conscience. The rotten ones had one thing in common – they thought they were more deserving than everyone else. More deserving of respect, of wealth, and recently, of life. The decent ones were probably weary of their unscrupulous housemates giving them a bad a reputation, or so Annabelle liked to think.

As her team shook hands with the Slytherins, she found herself holding her breath, hoping a fight didn't break out. Evan barely touched their hands as he sailed past, and Amycus didn't offer a hand at all. What did he care? It was the end for him as well. With relief, she flew back to the station behind Johnny B. and they continued celebrating with more hugs, pats on the backs, and enthusiastic commentary on how they beat the Slytherins.

Outside the changing rooms, there was a crowd waiting. James spotted Lily and made his way straight to her, where he lifted her off the ground and spun her around.

"Well done, Captain," she said, beaming. "As always."

He kissed her hard on the lips, and she stretched her arms around his neck, feeling delighted to call the adorable captain of the unbeatable Gryffindor Quidditch team her own.

From the top of the stairs, Annabelle spied Faixfax's blond hair and she hurried down to him, but her throbbing knee slowed her. He smiled brightly and held his arms open, catching her as she flew into them.

"We've missed you!" she said, her tears forcing their way out for the third time that day.

"You were fantastic out there," he said. "I'm so proud of you."

"That means a lot coming from you." And it did. He had been so helpful and patient with her on the pitch when she was learning the sport, and she imagined if she had a big brother, she would want him to be like Fairfax.

"Where's Mary?" she asked.

"Had a work thing. She'll be meeting us tonight. You're coming, yeah?''

"Of course! How could I miss it?"

Their post-win gathering at the Hog's Head had already been planned since word had spread old Aberforth was on holiday. In fact, they might have gone there whether they had won or not, but now that they were the official champions, hopefully certain Slytherins would know enough to keep away.

Annabelle felt a tugging on her coat and looked down to see Nymphadora smiling at her.

"Dora!" she cried with delight, squatting down to her level. "How did you like the match?"

"Well… em… I liked all the flying, but then my eyes felt sleepy." She pulled down on her cheeks, showing the inside of her eye sockets for effect.

"She fell asleep on Ted's lap," said Andromeda, approaching with open arms. "You were amazing. All of you were."

"I'm so glad you could make it to a match."

"We needed some cheer, and I think this did the trick."

Sirius had finished talking to a reporter from the Daily Prophet and made his way over.

"There's my talented cousin," Andromeda said, embracing him.

"Well done, Sirius," said Ted. "I suddenly felt rather out of shape watching you lot up there."

Andromeda laughed, and they chatted a bit longer before Nymphadora got antsy and they decided to head home. Once the crowd had dispersed, the team and their friends started toward the castle.

"This is a good day for Gryffindor," said Lily. "And no one can take it away from us."

"That's right," agreed James. "The cup and the record belong to us, which means long after we're gone, our names will still be on display in the trophy room. We made history, people. Don't forget it."

Sirius noticed Annabelle's limp wasn't improving. "How bad is it?"

"I'll manage. Madam Pomfrey said she can give me something for it."

"Fucking asshole," he seethed. "Hitting you in the knee of all places. What was the point?"

"Yeah, not like a hurt knee's going to stop her," said Caradoc.

"Either he lost his ability to aim," said Alice, "or he deliberately wanted to hurt her one more time with no penalty. I'm going with the latter."

Sirius kicked a stick out of his path, sending it flying. The agreement was to leave the girls out of their conflict, and Amycus had broken it. It would be one thing if he had actually been in defensive mode, as in stopping her from catching the Snitch, but he hadn't been. He just did it for the sick thrill it gave him. Or to throw it in Sirius' face that he never meant to honour his promise.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

After the dinner festivities, which included awarding the Quidditch Cup to Gryffindor and loads of cheering and tears, especially after James' sappy speech, they returned to their dorms to get ready for the real party. Besides Fairfax, several of the team's alumni would also be joining them.

A twinge of fear tickled Annabelle's stomach over the prospect of being caught sneaking out, a leftover feeling from days before she fell in with the most notorious rule breakers in the school. Thankfully, said rule breakers were also the creators of a phenomenal map, which allowed them to escape discovery by staff and other students. The only problem was, there were too many of them, so they would have to take their chances by going in shifts.

Not surprisingly, they made it to Hogsmeade without a snag. Peter had stayed behind, as his fear of Voldemort was getting the better of him, and Mira and Rory were too young to be sneaking into the Hogshead. But Claire joined them, looking as nervous as Annabelle had the first time she sneaked out. Sirius, James, Caradoc, and Johnny B. went straight to the bar where four handsome young men were gathered, and the handshaking, back-patting, and shoulder-hugging commenced. Annabelle recognised them, even if she hadn't been friends with them. It was impossible to miss Connor Fawley, the team's former captain; Gavin Travers, the Seeker she had replaced; and two others who had been three years ahead of her in school, Jude Nash and Adrian Johnson.

Connor and Gavin greeted the girls with kisses on cheeks. Lily and Annabelle fought the urge to giggle like Zelda and Twyla, but the two former gods of Gryffindor would always be like celebrities to them, just as they had been when they were younger. Alice preferred the studious, unassuming types, so she remained unmoved by their chiselled features and strong, athletic frames, or so she pretended to be.

While not conventionally handsome like his teammates, Jude Nash was interesting to look at in his own right. He wore tight black jeans and a t-shirt that said Glass Wand, a wizard punk band that hadn't hit the mainstream yet, and his coppery hair stood up in sharp spikes. Tattoos graced the entirety of his arms, his ghostly hands appearing to emerge from colourful sleeves. There was something irreverent in his expression that reminded Annabelle of Sirius. Dominica had a terrible crush on him during third year, but he never knew, not that he would have paid any attention to some thirteen-year-old anyway.

And finally, Adrian Johnson was the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome, overdressed for the Hog's Head in sleek trousers and a white oxford shirt that hugged his physique, the cuffs rolled effortlessly to just below his elbows. Annabelle recognised his companion; her name was Patricia Rivers, a pretty Hufflepuff alumnus who was dressed like she was going to a nightclub in a sparkly gold dress, but otherwise looking rather exhausted. From the glimmering rings on her finger, which were set off by her warm brown skin, she also appeared to be his wife.

"We just came from a dinner party..." She paused to yawn. "...pardon me. So we won't be able to stay long."

"My mum is minding Angelina," explained Adrian. "This is our first time out without her."

"How old is she?" asked Alice.

"Seven weeks," said Patricia. "I know it's only for a few hours, but I cried as soon as I walked out the door."

It seemed so strange to Annabelle how they had been only a few years ahead of her at school, and already they were settling down and having babies. She wasn't opposed to the idea exactly, but the last time she saw them they were her age, and now… what a difference a few years could make.

After they left, Sirius fell into conversation with Jude, and Annabelle saw him pushing up the sleeve of his shirt to show Jude his own tattoo. Jude appeared impressed. Fairfax arrived late, bursting through the doors with Mary by his side.

"We're here!" he announced. "The party can start now!"

Claire watched wide-eyed as the boys did shots of Fire Whisky like water. Even Remus did a couple, but declined when a third round was handed out, as did Lily, Annabelle, and Alice. They nursed their cocktails instead, hoping they wouldn't have to drag any sick, drunk boys home.

Johnny B. had been in a grand mood all day, but now the liquor was taking hold of him, and he slumped in a chair between Lily and Alice and heaved a sad sigh.

"Matthew?" Lily asked.

"I miss him," he replied. "It feels like he's been gone forever, but it's only December."

"He misses you, too," said Annabelle.

"But does he like Sydney?" asked Alice.

Johnny B. nodded glumly. "Says it's great. Says I'd love it there. Keeps asking me to find a way to visit."

"Johnny…" warned Annabelle.

"I know, I know. I'm not going to do anything stupid."

"It's not easy being apart," said Alice, who knew how hard long distance relationships could be. And she usually saw Frank once a month in Hogsmeade. Johnny B. wouldn't see Matthew until August, unless he could figure out a way to safely get himself to Australia, which didn't seem possible given the distance and his lack of resources, financial or otherwise. "But think of how much stronger you'll be for it in the end."

"Or how single I'll be," he muttered.

Lily laughed. "Are you mad? Have you seen the way he looks at you?"

"I have," said Annabelle.

"So have I," said Claire.

Lily raised her eyebrows. "See? He loves you, and he will still love you in August. Where's your optimism? You have to be positive."

"Optimism is in short supply these days."

It broke their hearts to see free-spirited Johnny B. weighed down so heavily. As much as they tried to build him up, they knew they would feel the same were they in his shoes, and comfort would only come in the form of Matthew, not in their well-meaning but hollow reassurances.

Mary wandered over with a glass of water for him, and continued the efforts to cheer him. Annabelle took the opportunity to catch up with Fairfax.

"So…" she said, sidling up to him at the bar. "You and Mary… what's going on?"

His lips tightened into a grin. "You've got eyes. What does it look like?"

"Looks like she's got you wrapped round her finger. And you look quite happy about it."

"I'll have you know you are correct."

"I'd say that's worth celebrating. Our Fairfax, finally found _the one_. Never thought we'd see the day."

He leaned in and whispered, "I'm saving for a ring. Going to propose this spring sometime." Annabelle's eyes widened and he cautioned, "Shhh, don't make a scene. I want to surprise her."

"I'm trying not to scream. This is wonderful news! But gosh Fairfax, you're so young, both of you… how do you know it's the right time for marriage?"

"I guess because when you know you know."

"Don't give me that. You knew with every girl you dated. What makes you so sure this time?"

"I admit I don't have the best track record with girls, but Merlin, Annie, you don't have to rub it in."

"I'm not - oh, Fax, no – it's an honest question. Marriage is a big deal, something that mystifies me – I mean, how do you know you've chosen correctly?"

"I guess you can't know for sure. It's a leap of faith… you just decide to go for it. And with Voldemort on the loose, it'd be nice to marry her before I'm in my grave."

Annabelle shivered. "Don't talk about graves."

"Sorry, but you asked."

At seventeen, marriage, while a romantic notion, felt to Annabelle like something much older people did. Fairfax would be nineteen in few months, which was still young. Yet, she could understand, in some small way, the appeal of it, when no one knew when the war would end, and if they would see the other side of it. Weddings were hopeful, and love was something Voldemort couldn't touch.

"Well, I wish you nothing but the best."

Fairfax looked at her sceptically. "Why do you ask?"

"About marriage?"

He nodded.

"Curious is all."

"Ah Annie," he said, giving her shoulder a squeeze, "ever the worrier. Just know there is no timeline. You do it if you both want to, whenever that may be. Or you don't. That's all."

"Simple."

"It is, actually," he replied with a shrug.

To Fairfax, it really was simple, but not to Annabelle. She loved Sirius like mad, and she couldn't imagine _not_ being with him. But they had been together for just over a year. That was nothing in the grand scheme of things, and while the idea of breaking up with him made her want to weep, she knew how life could turn on a sickle, and there was always a chance things could change.

She looked down the bar to where he stood with Jude and Connor, and as though he sensed she was watching him, he turned and met her eyes. When he smiled coyly, her stomach fluttered. Merlin, she could scarcely bear him sometimes, the way he could level her with one look. Fairfax was right, there was no timeline for marriage, but she hoped Sirius' heart would always be hers.

Later, when the boys' intoxication level bordered on sloppy, Annabelle made her way over to the far end of the bar where Sirius was involved in an animated conversation with James and Gavin. She hugged him from behind, resting her head on his upper back, and his free hand moved to her arm, massaging it gently as the conversation continued.

"And he has the nerve to _challenge_ us because you told your family the truth about the loser," he said to Gavin.

"Yeah," James agreed. "I want to say, 'how about instead of challenging us, you stop being such a conniving prick?'"

Annabelle grew tense. Drunk Gryffindor boys talking about how much they loathe a Slytherin was a sure-fire way of ruining a party.

"That kid's family are the worst kind of pureblood radicals," said Gavin. "His brothers especially."

"Their DNA must be part reptile," said James.

Sirius pulled Annabelle round to his side, draping an arm over her shoulder.

"I'm done after this pint," he whispered to her.

"Wise decision."

Caradoc came up on Annabelle's other side, messing her hair. "To the best Quidditch team in the history of Hogwarts… feck it… the history of wizard kind," he slurred, holding up his glass. "I stand among giants."

"Cheers," they said, clinking glasses and sloshing beer to the floor.

Soon, Lily joined them, and James took her hand and kissed it. He had also stopped drinking; being head boy had given him a kick toward more responsible behaviour. Lily smiled, unable to take her eyes off him despite the presence of Gavin and Connor in all their glory. Fourteen-year-old Lily would have been very confused by this turn of events, but seventeen-year-old Lily knew better.

"I'm heading out," said Connor as he pushed his way over. "We'll have to do this again, soon." He made sure to say goodbye to everyone individually, his easy smile and gait demonstrating his innate confidence.

After he left, Annabelle noticed two young men at the other end of the bar sitting quietly, looking in the direction of her friends. She paid them no mind, as people-watching wasn't illegal, but she felt a chill in her spine, and she cautiously glanced at them again. The one on the left, a large man with a shaved head, seemed bored, but the one on the right reminded her of a cat about to pounce, with his head lowered, and his amber eyes fixed on someone. She couldn't tell whom. They hadn't been there for long, as their faces were red and chapped from the cold, and they were just pulling off their gloves. The bartender placed glasses of a dark liquid in front of them, and while the large man took a sip, the cat-like one remained still. Suddenly, his eyes darted to hers, and she turned away, a lump of cold fear rising in her throat.

Her hand found Sirius's. "Maybe it's time we all leave. It's quite late."

"Had enough?" he asked.

She nodded, but the next thing she knew the man shouted something unintelligible. Gavin's head turned toward the sound, his eyes narrowing.

"Speak of the devil," he said in a low voice.

"Did you hear me?" the man called, slamming a hand on the bar.

"No, we didn't," Gavin responded. "And we don't care to."

"That's a shame, because I won't be silenced by you gutless blood traitors."

"Who is he?" asked Sirius.

"Aaron Rosier," Gavin said. "Dirtbag extraordinaire."

Sirius peered at him from over his shoulder. There was definitely a resemblance to Evan, but there was something different about him as well. Aaron appeared smaller, more compact, and infinitely more disturbed.

"Let's go," said Annabelle.

The door swung open, and in walked another man, tall and amber-eyed. He stood beside the large man, and ordered a drink.

"His brother Russell," informed Gavin.

Lily held onto James' arm, and they traded wary glances.

"Let me repeat myself," Aaron Rosier enunciated. "Is this the place where blood traitors ply their mudblood whores with alcohol?"

"You're an embarrassment to wizardkind," replied Gavin, his deep voice calm and commanding. "You and your entire deranged family."

Russell threw a lager-filled pint glass over their heads and it shattered against the floor behind them, causing them to startle.

"Are you psychotic?" demanded Caradoc, but Johnny B. shushed him. The bartender, who was just a young man himself - Annabelle vaguely remembered him as a seventh year during her first - muttered something under his breath, but didn't dare reproach Russell Rosier.

"He most definitely _is_ psychotic," answered Jude boldly.

Claire sat in the opposite corner of the room with Remus, her arms around his waist as she glanced cautiously at the troublemakers. "I don't like this," she whispered. "We're not safe here."

He squeezed her, but said nothing. They couldn't leave without passing the men, and Remus would not leave his mates.

"I think it's time to call it night," said Lily, her voice shaky after the glass throwing incident.

"I agree," said Annabelle.

They gathered their coats and paid their tab, then hurried toward the door. As they left, Russell sneered, "Go on, run away, rejects."

Jude was bringing up the back as they left, but instead of following his mates out the door, he turned abruptly, striking Russell right between the eyes. The sound was gruesome and loud – so loud that Annabelle heard it from outside. Gavin turned back and wrenched him out of the pub, his wand brandished in case the men followed.

Jude struggled against his friend's grasp, but Gavin was bigger and stronger.

"Jude!" he shouted. "Wands, not fists." Then he gave him a mighty shove away from the entrance to the pub.

As Gavin backed away from the door, he said to the others, "Let's get you to The Green Banshee. Jude and I will disapparate from there."

But no one got a chance to leave. The men burst through the door, wands wielded. Curses started flying, and it was a matter of seconds before the Rosiers and their mate were disarmed. Aaron and the other man disapparated, but that didn't stop Russell from going straight for Jude's neck. Fortunately, Jude had a knack for fighting – he had been in dozens of fights during his Hogwarts days – and he blocked Russell's hands, wresting him to the ground and sitting on him. He held his wand to Russell's face.

"Apologise to these good people, you lowlife."

Russell could have disapparated out from under him, but he was struggling to get another swing in. As he fought, his sleeve pulled up slightly, revealing a portion of a tattoo. Jude's mouth dropped open and he shoved the sleeve up to his elbow. "You – you're a-"

"A Death Eater?" snapped Russell. "Don't be ridiculous, it's just a tattoo."

Everyone froze in shock. Jude was distracted enough by the mark that he wasn't prepared to block Russell's fist as it slugged him in the eye. The boys launched themselves at Russell, but his lip curled in a malevolent smile, and without bothering to stand up all the way first, he disapparated with a crack.

Silence engulfed them as they looked to each other for confirmation that they had really just encountered a Death Eater.

Finally, Johnny B. spoke. "Do you think it was a real Dark Mark? Or maybe a copycat tattoo?"

"Everyone knows what the Rosiers are like," said Fairfax. "I'd wager it's real."

"Looked real to me," said Jude, who had seen it up close. "It was more of a branding than a tattoo. The skin was raised, like."

"We'd better get out of here," said James, scrubbing his hand through his hair. Fairfax and Mary quickly said their farewells, and were gone with a pop. Gavin and Jude joined the rest of them for the walk to the Green Banshee, and would wait until they were inside the pub before disapparating.

"We should tell Dumbledore," said Lily.

"How are we going to do that without him knowing we sneaked out?" asked Caradoc.

"I'll say I sneaked out," said James. "Just me."

"No," replied Sirius. "You're not losing head boy for this. I'll tell him I went to meet Gavin and Jude. If he punishes me, so be it."

"You're not taking the fall by yourself, Sirius," began James, but Gavin cut him off.

"How about neither of you say a word. Jude and I will tell him first thing tomorrow. There, problem solved."

They said goodbye to Gavin and Jude at the door of the Green Banshee, and made their way through the crowd, disappearing one at time down the back hallway and into the basement.

"Nobody tell Peter about this," said James, once they were all in the tunnel. "It will only freak him out more."

"And I really don't need to hear him say 'I-told-you-so'," said Alice.

"Why were they there?" asked Annabelle. "Do you reckon they knew we'd be there?"

James gave her a withering look. "Of course."

"But Gavin said they go there quite often," said Lily. "Maybe it was just a coincidence."

"It was no coincidence," said Sirius. "They started in on us as soon as they sat down."

Caradoc cracked his knuckles as he fumed. "Those fecking talentless cowards couldn't beat us on the pitch, so they sent their savages to wind us up."

It had been a jarring experience for them all, coming that close to a Death Eater, and by extension, to Voldemort himself. A schoolmate's brother. Not that anyone was shocked, considering Sirius had been predicting the Rosiers' allegiance with Voldemort all along. But still… Evan Rosier, while foul, was still a kid by most standards. Annabelle recalled the dead look in his eyes on the pitch… could it be because he knew about his brother? Or… she could hardly stand to think it… could Evan be a Death Eater, as well? He was a bigoted arse, for sure, but he wasn't a killer… he'd got teary-eyed over his father in the library, and he was dating a nice, normal girl. No, he couldn't be one of them. She reminded herself that even if he wanted to be involved in Voldemort's horrid mess, he wouldn't have time with the amount of work the seventh-years had.

But she knew he was close with his brothers; she'd gathered as much from the way he had defended them to her, promising they were not a danger to Teagan. Annabelle was sickened to think he would likely be joining up with them once school finished, or maybe he was already involved somehow in the business of torture and murder. It just didn't seem possible.

Yet there had been a Dark Mark on his brother's arm, as clear as day.


	10. Joyeux Noël

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brit words/slang used in this chapter: brolly = umbrella, lippy = lipstick, knickers = panties, candy floss = cotton candy
> 
> If you've never heard of the song mentioned in this chapter – Sussex Carol – I recommend the version by Cherish the Ladies, on YouTube, listed as On Christmas Night/Charles O' Conor.
> 
> APPARENTLY, the new Bloomsbury UK editions of Harry Potter come with new "facts" as well. One of these facts is that 9 ¾ is not the only fractional platform at King's Cross station. There are others, which lead to other places. Of course, I love this idea, don't you? :)
> 
> Apologies for my crap French. Corrections are more than welcome.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_"For love is like a tree; it grows of itself, it sends its roots deep into our being,_

_and often continues to grow green over a heart in ruins."  
_

_― Victor Hugo, The Hunchback of Notre-Dame_

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

James and Lily sat at their assigned table with Harvey and Kaye Evans, listening while the best man gave a long-winded speech about what a top mate Vernon was. His jokes kept falling flat, and James snickered under his breath at the awkwardness. Even more awkward, was how Petunia hadn't spoken to Lily all afternoon, except for a grudging "thank you" in the receiving line after the ceremony. Her eyes had looked past Lily as she spoke. James had offered Vernon his hand, but Vernon pretended not to notice, falling into conversation with the person behind him in line.

Now, Lily felt a headache coming on from the excess of flowers everywhere. It looked and smelled like springtime had erupted in the middle of December; even the monstrous bridesmaids' gowns were a bubble-gum pink.

"See Lil?" said James. "You didn't miss out on anything by not being in the wedding party. You'd be dressed like human candy floss."

Lily smiled half-heartedly and looked down at her own simple but elegant pale blue gown. With a cinched waist and bishop sleeves, its delicate lace-trimmed skirt swished when she walked. She had been happy with it, because it made her feel sophisticated, something Petunia was not and never would be, because Petunia didn't do "understated." In her world, everything had to have the maximum amount frill.

The wedding party was seated at a special table at the front of the room. There were six bridesmaids and six ushers, and while Lily knew to keep her opinions to herself, to her that was too many. Was Petunia trying to prove to the guests she was likeable, and actually had friends? Lily decided then that when she got married, it would be a small ceremony with only family and her closest friends present. None of this inviting every person with whom she ever had contact. Too many people, too much fake smiling; a wedding like this would feel like work to Lily, like a job instead of a celebration, and it wasn't for her.

"You're brooding, dear," her mum whispered to her. "At least pretend to be happy for your sister."

The words dug deep, and Lily's face fell. "I'm not _un_ happy for her, but Mum, she – she –"

She couldn't explain to her mother, that her brooding - unintentional of course - was about so much more than not being happy for Petunia. It wasn't even about Vernon. Petunia could marry whomever she wished, however she wanted. Instead, it was about nearly a decade of animosity, judgement, and hurt feelings, all culminating in this one night, where it should have been Lily at her sister's side, sharing one of the happiest days of her life with her. Maybe she would have been happy for Petunia had she not estranged herself completely due to resentment over things out of Lily's control. It was ridiculous, when Lily really let it sink in, how derailed their sisterhood was, but there was no turning back now, not when all bridges had been burned to ashes. Lily did her best to appear jovial, but inside she was crumbling.

"I just have a headache from sitting next to the speakers," she finished saying. Their table was awfully close to the stage where a mediocre band played music from the 1950's, "to accommodate everyone's tastes" as Vernon's mother had put it.

"Come with me," said James, taking her hand. "Let's walk. I could use a refill on this excellent – what did you call it?"

"Fruit punch," said Lily.

"Yes, _fruit_ _punch._ "

Instead of the punch table, he stopped at the bar and asked for a bottle of champagne. "For the bride and groom" he had said with a smooth confidence that made him seem older than seventeen. Apparently the bartender was fooled, because he passed a bottle over without hesitation. With the bottle in hand, James led Lily out of the hall and into the corridor.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"Away from the noise." He wanted to add, " _and the obvious cold-shouldering from the bride, groom, and their mates,"_ but that was a given.

They wound their way around several corners and settled on a carpeted step that led to another party hall. The doors were closed and no sound came from the other side, so they would be able to sit for a while in peace and restore some of their dignity.

"Get ready," James said, as he peeled the foil from the cork and loosened the metal cage around it. Placing his thumb on the cork, he slowly loosened it until it popped. "Et viola!"

Lily couldn't help but laugh, not only because his French accent was hilarious, but because it reminded her that their Paris getaway was so close.

"Witches first," he said, and passed the bottle to her. "Sorry about the lack of champagne flutes."

Normally, she would classify drinking champagne straight out of a bottle as crude, but after the day she'd had, she no longer cared. She put the bottle to her lips and tipped her head back, taking a generous sip. It fizzed in her throat as it went down, and she shuddered from its bitterness.

"That bad?" he asked.

"I'm sure it's fine," she replied, handing the bottle to him. "Just takes some getting used to I suppose."

James took a swig and clenched his fist as he swallowed. "Wow, this is some shite champagne. Not that I know what the hell champagne is supposed to taste like."

Lily found him most endearing in moments like these, because he wasn't trying to impress. He was being himself, and the longer they were together, the more his bravado wore away, revealing this unassuming, genuine person who was next to her now. She took it to mean that he trusted her and what they had together. He didn't have to perform because the real James, the sometimes elusive, often awkward, but always, _always_ caring and thoughtful James, was the one she was in love with, and always would be.

She marvelled at how her feelings for him had changed over the years. All the ups and downs, her loathing for an irreverent, arrogant boy to this aching love for the man he was becoming; she knew in that moment what it was that drove people to marry, to love each other so much they would commit their lives to each other. At least some people, anyway. She could see James sitting by her side in the years to come, when their hair turned white and their smooth faces gave way to wrinkles, their bodies growing weaker, but their love still strong. And her heart would still warm to him, and she would always want him with her.

"I wish I could make this night better for you," he said.

"You already have, just by being here."

He smiled softly and gave her the bottle. She took another swallow and shuddered again.

"I think it's growing on me," she said. "In fact, by the time we finish it, I bet I will adore champagne."

James drank some more and shook his head. "I think I prefer the fruit punch."

They both chuckled, and he reached for her. She pressed her palm to his, and they threaded their fingers together, holding on tight. James scooted closer and brought their clasped hands to his chest, and with his other hand, he touched her cheek.

"You are truly… my favourite person in the world," he said, his fingertips tracing her hairline.

As soon as he said it, his cheeks reddened, but his eyes didn't waver from hers, and a swell of emotion rose inside of her – what was it? Gratefulness? Adoration? Bliss? It was wonderful, she knew that much.

"Please kiss me," she said.

He nodded and swallowed thickly, then touched his lips to hers. Their eyes closed, and she stroked his cheek and his Champagne-scented breath mingled with hers… and she felt like she could fly, no charms needed. Even their kissing had evolved since the first time, from somewhat sloppy and disjointed with far too much thought behind it, into something natural, unrushed, and exquisite. She wanted to savour his perfect lips, his tongue moving with hers, and the overwhelming feelings he elicited in her.

When they parted, she touched his mouth and he kissed her fingertips. His reticent smile was enough to do her in.

"Spend a night with me in Paris?" he asked as he rested his forehead against hers.

She nodded, then remembered to speak. "Yes." She knew without a doubt Annabelle and Sirius wouldn't object.

James' mouth met hers again, and his hands found their way under her dress. She inhaled as they moved over her hips, and they both knew what would happen in Paris. They kissed until they heard voices approaching, at which James tugged the hem of her dress back down, and they watched as a drunk, giggling group of four – Petunia's work friends and their companions – staggered past them to the emergency exit. The alarm went off, but Lily silenced it wandlessly, and the group was none the wiser.

"We better get back. My parents will worry."

James took one more gulp of Champagne, then gave Lily the bottle.

"And there's a dance floor calling our names," he said. "Finish it off. You need it more than I do."

She set the bottle down. "No. All I need is you."

"You're in luck then," he replied as he stood up and offered her his arm.

As she took it, she thought to herself, _No… I'm in love._

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Has anyone seen Annabelle?" asked Sirius as he entered the common room from the boys' dorm. He hadn't seen her all day; she'd complained of too many distractions and went to her room to work. James was still at the wedding, Remus was with Claire somewhere, and Sirius was starting to get bored.

"No, haven't," droned Peter, his eyes not leaving the chess board where he was facing off with Benjy Fenwick. Benjy wasn't technically supposed to be in the Gryffindor common room, but he was the most unassuming and approachable lad, so no one minded him being there. The Gryffindor prefects were friendly with him from prefect meetings, so they weren't about to report him either, especially Remus who had become a regular fixture in the Ravenclaw common room.

"Sorry, neither have I," he said in his heavy Glasgow accent.

"She mentioned McGonagall helping her with something," informed Johnny B. from a study table he was sharing with Opal Ross and Gloria Henderson. "Maybe her Transfiguration assignment?"

"She finished her Transfiguration assignment," said Sirius, glancing at the clock. She had been spending more time alone lately, holed up in her room, or off getting help from professors, but she hadn't been acting strange when they were together. In fact, ever since he broke the Paris news, she had been happier than he'd seen her in months.

With no way of knowing what to make of it, he picked up a copy of the Prophet from a chair near the portrait hole and sat down. The paper was from a few days before, but the crossword puzzle was blank. Johnny B. was busy folding an elaborate paper aeroplane, so Sirius asked for his quill and Johnny B. tossed it to him. He went to work on the puzzle, humming along to the holiday carols playing on the radio. The common room felt festive with garlands hanging, a Christmas tree in the corner, and a dozen or so candles flickering over the mantle. He smiled faintly to himself as he recalled the previous Christmas with Annabelle.

Fifteen minutes later, with three clues left in the puzzle, she returned, a rolled parchment clasped to her chest. She jumped when she saw Sirius sitting there, the corners of her mouth hinting at a grin.

"Sirius!" she exclaimed.

"Annabelle."

"Oh my goshy, I need the loo!" And she hurried off to the girls' staircase.

"You're up to something," he called after her.

"Never you mind…" her voice trailed off.

He figured she would be back soon, so he returned to the crossword puzzle. He wasn't prepared to hear her whisper in his ear.

"Let's go upstairs," she said, and Sirius jolted, a frightened sound escaping him.

Many heads turned toward him. Johnny B. looked like he was going to laugh, and Peter had an eyebrow raised.

"I thought I felt a spider on my face," Sirius announced awkwardly, and let Annabelle's invisible hand cover his as she led him to the stairs.

When they reached his room, Annabelle pulled off her invisibility cloak.

"A spider on your face?" she said, laughing.

"It was all I could think of. You scared the shite out of me."

He stepped toward her, intending to pull her to into his arms, but she stepped away. She had one arm behind her back.

"Hold on, I have a something for you."

"You do, hmm? Does it have anything to do with your strange need to revise alone the past few weeks?"

"It does indeed. Sit."

He dropped onto his bed. After another attempt to pull her close was met with her pushing his arm away, he put his hands on the mattress and surrendered. She stood before him, giddy with excitement.

"All right," she said, steadying herself. "I know we said we'd wait to do presents until the night before we leave for break, but I absolutely cannot wait that long. I just can't, especially now that you're on to me. So…" She thrust out a long roll of paper, tied with a red velvet ribbon, and took a deep breath. "For the best person I know."

Sirius could already feel his emotions getting the better of him as he took the gift from her. She sat down next to him, her mouth pressed into his shoulder as he slid the ribbon off and unrolled the paper. It was so large, she took two corners of it so it wouldn't buckle in the middle, and he watched as a beautiful, vibrant image was revealed to him. When he saw the names, he realised what it was.

"Oh my god," he breathed.

Before him was a painting of a sprawling tree, the tiny leaves varying shades of vivid green, some with reddish-orange on their tips, and the trunk a rich brown and shimmering gold, all set against a bright blue sky. In the centre of it, his name was written in calligraphy – an elegant script with sloping curves and flourishes, the first S embellished with an elaborate pattern. On every branch was a name of one his closest mates, written in the same script: James, Annabelle, Remus, Lily, Peter, Alice, Johnny B., Caradoc, Fairfax, Matthew, and Claire. In another cluster of branches he found Rosie and Jack, and on the other side, Andromeda, Nymphadora, and Ted. Right above them was Uncle Alphard. He swallowed hard as his eyes filled with tears.

"Everyone here loves you for who are," she said, nodding toward the tree.

"It's… I wasn't expecting this."

Annabelle looked from the painting to Sirius. "Blow on it."

He wiped a tear from his eye with the cuff of his shirt and chuckled. "Blow on it?"

"Yeah, like this."

She leaned forward and gave a short puff to a clump of leaves. They responded by swaying about, some of them falling to the grassy roots below, before going still again.

"You made this yourself, Annie?"

"Most of it. I had a bit of help from Flitwick with the charms. If you hold your wand over it and say the name of a season in Latin, it will transform to reflect that season. Watch." She waved her wand over it and said, _"Hiems."_

The scene faded, shifting, and the tree became barren, its branches and the names on them sparkling with snow. When she blew on it, little snow drifts swirled into the air, mingling with the flakes falling lazily to the ground, and crows winged away into the pale sky.

"See? It's symbolic. Though the seasons change, we're all still there for each other. A bit sappy, maybe, but I couldn't help myself, because it's true."

He shook his head again, too moved to make his voice work, not only by its complexity and ornateness, but that of all people in the world, she had made it for him. He wasn't sure words could express how he felt.

"It's modelled on the Book of Kells," she explained. "McGonagall has a book of reproductions she let me use, as well as her paints and calligraphy quills. Did you know she likes to paint in her spare time?"

"I didn't."

"So? What do you think?" she asked, her brow furrowed expectantly. "The tree's a bit wonky, isn't it? I'm not exactly an _artiste_ – I must have started over fifty times. But I wanted to make good on what I said in the library in September." When he still didn't respond, she implored, "Sirius, please say something. Tell me I didn't make a mistake with this… We said we wouldn't spend a lot and I just thought you-"

He let go of a corner, and holding the back of her head, he brought his mouth to hers and kissed her with everything he had in him. When he finally broke away, he looked at her, gratitude overwhelming him.

"Does that mean you like it?" she asked.

"It does," he said, laughing with misty eyes, and staring it again. "It's amazing. I didn't think the signed Ballycastle Bats poster could ever be topped, but this tops it."

"You deserve it," she said softly. "Your true family tree, and the only one that matters."

Together they gazed at it for a few more moments, blowing on it softly and changing the seasons. She told him how the lettering had taken the longest because of the Celtic knots and interlacing patterns, but the thousands of tiny leaves were done with a magic brush, charmed to replicate portions of the painting.

 _She did this for me,_ he kept thinking. He had come to accept she loved him, or more specifically, what it meant to be truly loved, but it still staggered him sometimes – the feeling of it - when she showed her heart to him like this. It silenced the ugly voice in his head that said he was worthless.

"I know it's not exactly dorm room decor," she said, "not that it would fit on what scanty wall space there is in these rooms, but someday, if we get our own place, I'll have it framed and we can hang it up, if you'd like."

Most of the recent discussions between their friends about future habitation seemed to lean toward Sirius and James sharing a flat somewhere in the vicinity of Annabelle, Lily, and Alice (who said she would often be staying at Frank's, but her parents didn't need to know that) at least for the time being. Despite being purebloods, James' parents had no set rules when it came to marriage and living together, but that didn't change Harvey and Kaye Evans' minds. And neither Lily nor James could live by themselves, with Death Eaters popping up everywhere.

James and Sirius were also trying to convince Remus to join them, but he kept reiterating how dangerous his living there could be for them and for him as well, and that his parents' house, which was fully equipped with a room to contain him during transformations, was connected to the Floo network, so it wouldn't be a big deal. Of course James and Sirius hadn't accepted his excuses, and continued to badger him about it with their ideas on how to make it work. Peter, on the contrary, had resolved not live anywhere near muggles, because in his words, "muggles were magnets for Death Eaters." They continued to badger him as well.

There was the possibility James and Lily would live at home for a bit, and date like regular people who still lived with their parents, but no one was comfortable leaving them in the lurch. They all wanted to be together in London, not spread out, living separate lives.

" _When_ we get our own place, you mean," Sirius corrected her. "Not if."

She smiled coyly. "I can't wait."

After she helped him roll it back up, he pulled her forehead to his lips, kissing her softly.

"Thank you," he said. "But you should have let me go first, because I can't beat that. Not in a million years."

She gave his chin a playful squeeze. "Good thing not everything is a competition."

"Touché."

He went to his trunk and retrieved a small box, wrapped in gold paper, with a red bow on top.

"It's so pretty I don't want to open it."

"Open it," he said with a laugh.

She took the bow off and stuck it on his head, then tore open the paper. When she pulled the top off the box, she smiled.

"Ah, how lovely! A locket."

"True, but it's not your average locket. Turn it over."

Annabelle turned it over, and on the back of it was an engraving in Irish Gaelic: "Do Mamaí."

Her hand flew over her mouth. The tears were instant.

"Where did you get this?"

"Dumbledore."

"How did he get my grandmother's locket?"

"It's a long story, you see," he said, unsticking the bow from his hair and scooting up the bed to sit against the headboard. He reached out to her, and she reclined into him as she stared at the locket.

"My original idea was to frame a picture of you and your grandad, but since the pictures are in your room, and I couldn't steal one if I wanted to, I asked Dumbledore if he might have a one stashed away somewhere. He took me to his office and brought out a wooden box from a cupboard, and told me to look through it. There were a few official shots of the two of them together in their Wizengamot robes, and a few Prophet clippings from rallies and what have you. At the bottom of the box there were some gold cufflinks, a pocket watch, and this locket. He said the locket was your grandmother's, so I asked if I could give it to you, and he said you're not supposed to have any of it until you're eighteen, as it's considered part of your granddad's estate. Long story short, Dumbledore wouldn't tell if I didn't, and he let me take it."

"I thought his valuables were locked in his Gringott's vault."

"Maybe they are. Maybe Dumbledore had his own sentimental reasons for taking that stuff."

Indeed, her inheritance was on lockdown until she turned eighteen. Dumbledore was the only one with access, and only to the designated amount stated in Darien O'Neill's will, which covered her monthly allowance, school expenses, and other basic necessities. She imagined Dumbledore secured the items in the box for her before the house could be cleared out, lest they fall into the wrong hands. Or maybe it was as Sirius said, and the items were special to him for some reason.

"Do you know the engraving means?"

She burst into tears again. "It means "For Mummy." My Granddad gave this my Gran when she gave birth to my mother. I don't what to say. Just… thank you."

He pulled her to him in a warm hug, and she held the locket to her heart. "Aww Annie, it's Dumbledore you should thank. I'm only responsible for the chain. Sneaked into Hogsmeade with James last week when you were off hiding from me, creating your magic. He needed to do some Christmas shopping as well… Are you going to look inside?"

"Oh - of course," she said, sitting up a little and sniffling.

He didn't tell her the chain was unbreakable platinum of the highest magical quality, because they had agreed to not buy extravagant gifts, but he couldn't help it. He wanted the chain that held such a special locket to be the best money could buy. It was also the first purchase he had made with his own inheritance.

She opened the locket, and inside was a photo of her grandfather, reeling with laughter. He looked to be no more than twenty years old. And on the other side was the original picture, put there by Darien O'Neill himself. It was a picture of Colleen, yawning and blinking, only a few days old.

Annabelle's lower lip trembled, and Sirius grabbed a white t-shirt from where it was draped over his headboard and wiped her cheeks with it.

"Dumbledore says the picture is from the day he finished his training in the Department of Social Justice and Welfare," he told her. "Your grandmother had taken it, he told me. He was trying to look all solemn and respectable, so Dumbledore made a joke to get him to laugh. I shrunk it so it would fit, but you can always enlarge it if you want."

"Dumbledore told you all that, about the joke?"

"He did."

"He never tells me stories like that."

"I suspect it's a bit painful for him. But he probably would if you asked."

"Yeah… maybe." She put a hand on Sirius' cheek and said, "I wouldn't have this right now if not for you, and it means the world to me. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." She punctuated each 'thank you' with a kiss.

"Here, let me put it on you."

She lifted her hair, and once it was clasped shut, he kissed the back of her neck. She held onto the locket, gazing down at it, amazed to be seeing it after all those years.

"Why didn't you put a picture of yourself in there?" she asked.

He snorted a laugh. "That would be naff, wouldn't it? 'Happy Christmas, now here's a picture of me.'"

She giggled and cuddled up to him once more. He closed his eyes, contentment filling him, and started humming the happy tune to the Sussex Carol while Annabelle ran her fingers back and forth over his chest. He couldn't have asked for a better gift than this: the girl he loved most in the world holding him as the snow fell softly outside, and the feeling he wasn't alone, and never would be again. She began humming along with him, her hand moving through his hair, their off-key carol halting as she kissed his smile.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

On the morning Lily and Annabelle were to leave for Paris, they fluttered about, making sure they had everything they needed, calling to each other when an item occurred to them.

"Brolly?"

"Got it!"

"Lippy?"

"Yep! Knickers?"

"I nearly forgot!"

"Oh dear."

The week leading up to the trip had dragged as their Paris anticipation grew, but Christmas Day had felt longer than the rest of the week combined due solely to Petunia and Vernon, who had come for the afternoon. Thankfully, they didn't stay overnight, since they were leaving the following day for their honeymoon in Greece. Petunia made clear her disapproval of her parents' decision to allow Lily to go to Paris with her boyfriend before she was out of school, complaining it was improper, but Kaye calmly reminded her his parents would be there, and that Lily was almost eighteen. Petunia mentioned Greece repeatedly throughout the day, and Lily knew it was Petunia's way of taking every last morsel of attention from the Paris trip, because god forbid Lily go somewhere nice with a boy that didn't involve a honeymoon.

They had only seen James and Sirius once during the week, when they paid a visit on Boxing Day to watch football with Lily's dad. Lily and Annabelle tried to distract them by throwing popcorn at their heads, but it didn't work. James had said something earlier about wanting to get on her dad's good side, and made sure to compliment her mum at every opportunity as well, claiming her baked ham and mince pies were the best he had ever tasted.

The rest of the week was spent getting assignments done, and receiving French lessons in the form of random Howlers sent throughout the day from Sirius. They had learned how to say "Hello," "Please," "Thank you," "I'll have a cup of tea," "Where is the metro?" and "Where is the toilet? I'm about to explode!" (to which both boys cracked up laughing before the Howler went quiet.)

The morning of the trip, Jack Potter arrived with the boys via the Floo connection they had set up between the Evans' and the Potters' house to help the girls with their luggage. The Floo connection would be only available that morning and the evening they returned, out of safety concerns for Lily's muggle parents, but no one mentioned it aloud so as not to worry them.

After Jack's shrinking spell minimised their suitcases to lunchbox size, they were off. First stop was the Potter's house to pick up Rosie, and then it was another Floo journey to the Leaky Cauldron. On Charing Cross Road they grabbed taxis to King's Cross Station, and made their way to Platform 5 2/3 which would take them directly to Paris' Gare Du Nord via a tunnel under the English Channel, which had been built by wizards in the late 1800's.

"Muggles still haven't figured out how to construct a tunnel from London to Paris," said James, once they were on the platform.

"Remember, they don't have magic to help them," said Jack. "They'll figure it out one of these days."

"Give them another hundred years or so," joked Sirius, and when Annabelle shot him the side-eye, he swung his arm around her and laughed. "I'm only winding you up **,** _ma chérie."_ And she smiled in spite of herself.

The ride to Paris was smooth and quick. Mr. and Mrs. Potter watched the scenery go by, and once inside the tunnel they both dozed off. James had said they normally took the company Portkey to Rue Fantasque, but since Rosie still felt weak from what the healers said was a recurring bout of the Black Cat Flu, she wasn't feeling up to such a dizzying means of travel. The Floo had already been enough to give her a slight case of vertigo.

Once they reached Gare Du Nord, they gathered their tiny luggage and made their way outside where three sleek, black Rolls Royces and drivers were waiting. Mr. Potter had made the arrangements in advance so they wouldn't have to wait for a taxi, yet this was no ordinary taxi service. Lily had the feeling the luxuriousness of the car would be lost on James and Sirius, who rarely set foot in automobiles, but she was wrong.

"These cars make Vernon's look like a tin can."

"Be polite, Jamie," said Rosie.

"Sorry, mum."

Lily gave him a small wink, showing she agreed, and got inside the car Mr. Potter directed her towards. James climbed in behind her, and the driver shut the door. French words were exchanged between Mr. Potter and the driver, the address to the hotel, she assumed, and then they were off.

She knew the Potters were wealthy, but how wealthy was becoming abundantly clear to her. Feeling self-conscious, she turned her gaze to the window. James was used to such extravagance, but she was not, and it was hard not to gawk like a child at the city just out the window. Paris was everywhere, and she couldn't take it in fast enough.

"Everything all right, Lil?" James asked after a moment.

She turned to him and nodded, chewing her lip.

"Are you excited?" he asked.

"Excited is an understatement."

He reached for her hand. "Paris tu convient."

"What did you say, Mr. Fancypants?"

"Paris suits you. Or at least that's what I tried to say. Sirius would find some mistake, or mock my accent…"

She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "Well, I won't."

"Merci."

In the second Rolls Royce, Annabelle's eyes were also glued to the scenes passing by - a carousel bedecked with garland, fairy lights on trees, the regal buildings and quaint restaurants with French words she didn't know displayed on awnings. Sirius held her hand, pointing out interesting sights and conversing with the driver in French. He had told her once his French wasn't that good, but he could have fooled her.

It was a short ride to the hotel, located on a narrow street with a green park hidden mostly by a stone wall at the end, which she would later discover was part of the Sacré-Cœur grounds. It was cold outside, but the sky was blue, and Annabelle shivered both from the chill and pure elation.

"It's not the poshest neighbourhood," said Jack as he helped his wife out of the car, her chin-length silvery white hair whipping about in the wind. "But we have an emotional attachment to it."

As romantic as a Paris proposal was, Annabelle thought coming back to the same hotel from the night you proposed, with your wife of 50 years, was even more romantic. They were a testament to marriage, and while they occasionally disagreed or irritated each other, (Annabelle still laughed when she remembered Rosie scolding Jack for setting off fireworks with his wand over the summer, solely for the entertainment of James and his friends) they still held hands, laughed together, and stole loving glances at each other like newlyweds. Most importantly, they took care of each other, and through life's ups and downs, they hadn't lost sight of what was important.

"The Sacré-Cœur is a short walk around that way," said Rosie, pointing in the direction of the park. "We can go there first after we settle in and have some lunch."

After checking in, Jack handed room keys to James and Lily. "I know you don't technically require them, but try to use them anyway instead of wands. Don't want to break any statutes whilst here."

The first stop on the lift was the second floor, and Jack and Rosie exited. They had managed to reserve the same room they had stayed in all those years ago, and claimed there had been no other vacancies on their floor, but Annabelle wondered if they secretly preferred their room to be separate from the four teenagers they had brought with them.

"Behave yourselves," said Rosie, looking sceptically at James and Sirius.

"We will, Rosie," replied Sirius, grinning. "Don't worry about a thing!"

On the fourth floor, there was a moment's hesitation where they were having the same thought about the room arrangements: Could they get away with it if the boys shared rooms with the girls? And from the eager, yet cautious expressions on their faces, they _knew_ they were all thinking it. But Lily gave a subtle shake of her head, and unlocked the door to her and Annabelle's room, pulling Annabelle along behind. She gave a quick wave and closed the door behind them. Any room switches could happen later, if they were to happen at all.

Next door, James flopped down on his bed while Sirius enlarged their luggage. Neither had packed much, just a few changes of clothes and a dressier ensemble for night time. He hung the suit bag in the cupboard and closed it, then he went to the window which looked out over the street below. James' eyes were shut, not in a sleepy way, but in more of a pinched, distracted way.

"You okay, mate?" Sirius asked.

"My mum isn't doing well."

Sirius had noticed as well, but everyone knew Black Cat Flu was debilitating, and took ages to fully recover from. He didn't imagine there was much to be done but have patience, and not worry about it.

"She had Black Cat more than once this year," he assured James. "Takes a while to recover completely."

"I'm not used to her being this frail. My dad has help her up stairs. You saw how at home she's out of breath walking from one room to another."

"Maybe it takes more of a toll on older people. But she seems to be acting like herself, so I reckon she's through the worst of it."

As an only child with older parents, the thought of losing his mum and dad had always terrified James. He knew he dwelt on it too much as a child, but he couldn't stop himself. He had visions of being an orphan, and went through a phase when he was seven when he wouldn't leave Rosie's side, crying for her when she left him with the tutor, watching the clock for the time she said she would return. He even slept in bed with them for a few weeks, much to their concern. Ever their baby, Rosie would gather him close, whispering words of comfort while Jack stroked his hair.

They began allowing him to stay up late with them, giving in to his every request, but the family's rather stern Healer said they were only making the situation worse by coddling him so. Separation anxiety was a normal disturbance for many young children, and the best way to deal with it was to nip it in the bud. So James was sent back to his own bed with much protest and wailing, and Rosie would cave every night, lying down with him until he was asleep.

After a few months, his worries seemed to fade enough to carry on with daily tutoring, and soon he was falling asleep by himself again. It had been a brief episode in his life, the Healer had said, and they were relieved it was over. But the Healer was wrong. James hadn't stopped worrying about losing them, he just grew better at hiding it. He saw the distress his behaviour caused in his parents, how each one of his fears seemed to wring their hearts out, so he did his best to think happy thoughts as the Healer had advised him. It worked sometimes, and soon, other issues moved to the forefront of his mind, but he never got over it completely. Now, his parents were even older, and seeing his mother so weak brought all the old fears back.

"Prongs, if she was that sick, wouldn't the healer discourage her from going to Paris?"

"I guess. But how the hell is she going to walk around Montmartre? It's a giant fucking hill!"

"Don't go driving yourself crazy over it. Jack won't let anything happen to her. We'll carry her if we have to."

"We should have stayed somewhere else, somewhere flatter. But she _insisted_ …" He scrubbed his fingers through his hair and sat up. "We should get ready to go."

"Don't overthink it," said Sirius. "She wants you to enjoy yourself."

"Right," said James. "You're right."

He stood up from the bed and slipped into the bathroom to clean up a bit and tame his wild hair. His mother was fine, he convinced himself as he looked in the mirror. Like Sirius said, sick people didn't dash off to Paris in December. And she might be old, but some witches and wizards lived well into their 100s. How he hoped she would be one of them.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"I can't believe we're really here," said Lily as she brushed her hair, the thick auburn waves falling gracefully over shoulders. "In Paris, with James Potter and Sirius Black. Sometimes it still astounds me – us and them, _together_."

"Who would have ever thought?"

"We couldn't stand them."

"We thought they were horrid."

"Prats."

"Toe-rags."

Lily looked down at her brush, running her thumb over the bristles. "God, I love him so much, Annie."

Annabelle grinned, letting out a small laugh. "I know you do."

"What happened to us? What changed our minds?"

"Hmm…" Annabelle said, sitting down in the pretty brocade chair in the corner. "I don't think it was any one thing. Just sort of happened, didn't it? Little things added up to big things, like."

"Do me a favour and pinch me if you think I'm making a bloody fool of myself in front of his parents."

"You're not going to make a bloody fool of yourself."

"But they're from such a different world than me – what if I make a complete fool of myself, like use the wrong fork at dinner or accidentally burp at the table?"

Annabelle fell into a laughing fit.

"What? It could happen," said Lily.

"Lots of things _could_ happen, but they won't. And anyway, his parents adore you. You could burp your way through dinner and they would probably compliment you on your most excellent burping skills."

Lily chucked a mitten at Annabelle. "They're quite keen on you as well. And you know how they feel about Sirius."

"They really are wonderful, aren't they? Bringing us along like this?"

"Yes. They are."

Ultimately, they had James to thank, because he was the reason they were there. John and Rosemond Potter's only son, the centre of their universe, the one for whom they would do anything, including taking his friends to Paris for New Years. Anyone James loved, they loved by default, and as long as James was happy, they were too. Annabelle was right, Lily had nothing to fret about.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

After lunch at small crêperie round the corner, they walked the few blocks to the Sacré-Cœur. Rosie and Jack had told them to go ahead, while they waited and sipped their tea. They had visited the basilica many times in the past, and Rosie wanted to save her strength for later. James had suggested she ride the funicular railway to the top, but she had shooed them off, preferring the warmth of the crêperie to the blustery winter air waiting for her at the top.

"It probably for the best, James," said Lily, sensing his disappointment. "Too much cold can't be good for someone getting over an illness."

"Right," he said absently as they walked in the direction of the basilica, then pushing his glasses up, he announced, "I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm taking the stairs."

"I'll race you," said Sirius.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" warned Lily. "Jack and Rosie will be upset if either you get injured with no way to get you _immediate_ medical treatment, or if you knock some unsuspecting tourist down the stairs."

Hôpital Saint Bénézet, a hospital for wizards and witches, was near Rue Fantasque, but getting there without magic could prove troublesome.

"Eh, she's right," said James, who wasn't really in the mood to race. "Let's just enjoy the walk."

"I'll race you," said Annabelle to Sirius, a glint in her eye.

Sirius brightened, but Lily stared at her. "You're not immune to broken bones."

It was a hard point to argue, and besides, no one wanted to chance upsetting Rosie.

"Oh fine, we'll walk."

"I would have let you win, anyway," said Sirius.

" _Let_ me win?" she repeated. "Ha! That would've been unnecessary."

"You think so, yeah?"

"Pretty sure I know so."

They were laughing as they teased each other, but when the Sacré-Cœur came into view, Annabelle quieted, her eyes growing wide.

"Merlin," she and Lily said at the same time, and they started up the stairs.

Alice had been right, it was breathtaking. Even more fascinating was the years of physical labour it took the muggles to build it, as they learned from a guide once they were inside. How even without magical abilities, magic could still be made. It just took a fair bit longer, and loads more effort.

"Should we go to the top of the dome?" asked Sirius.

"Of course," said Lily. "I want to see the view."

The twisty dome stairs were not a problem for residents of a castle; Sirius even mentioned he felt like he was heading to a dirtier version of the dorm. But not everyone was comfortable with the steep, twisty hike. They squeezed past a muggle man on the way up who was so shaken he had to sit down. When they reached the top, they were all a bit speechless. There was something hallowed about it, something humbling compelling them to whisper. After doing a leisurely loop round the dome and snapping several shots of each other waving over the edge between the pillars, Lily broke the silence by exclaiming, "Look! There's the Eiffel Tower!"

Annabelle scrambled over to her, and when she saw it, her mouth dropped open. "It's there! Look, it's there!" she said to Sirius, waving him over and pointing.

Even though Sirius had been to Paris when he was young, his parents had chosen to spend the majority of their time in Rue Fantasque, mostly venturing out for "business" purposes. His mother had almost fainted from the close contact with Muggles inside the lift of the Eiffel Tower, and they had zipped back to their hotel immediately so she could wash and recover. Any sightseeing after that was with Regulus, who refused to get out of the chauffeur-driven limousine, and with their nanny at the time, a severe young woman who didn't actually like children or French people. This was his first time experiencing Paris with people who actually wanted to be there. Annabelle and Lily's delight made Paris feel new, like he was seeing it for the first time through their eyes.

The four of them stood transfixed, staring at the tower in the distance, their breath coming in clouds as tourists passed around them.

After a while, they made their way to solid ground, jogging down the stairs with ease as they passed several dizzy, tired muggles. They posed for more pictures, and as James was getting a shot of the other three to send to Alice, a muggle Frenchwoman approached him.

"Excusez-moi, voudriez-vous être dans la photo aussi?" she asked, motioning him towards his friends. It took James a moment to translate in his head what she was asking.

"Merci, mais non."

She shrugged and wandered away. Truthfully, he would have loved a picture of the four of them together, but he wouldn't be able to explain away the moving image that would pop out of the camera already fully developed. A full group shot could wait for later.

"This place is exhilarating," said Lily, spreading her arms. "I feel like twirling!"

"Come," said James. He passed the camera to Annabelle and gave Lily a twirl before pulling her into an embrace. Annabelle snapped a shot of them together, then draping the camera strap over her shoulder, she turned her gaze to the sprawling cityscape below.

"Exhilarating is the perfect word for it," she agreed.

Sirius took her face in his gloved hands and rubbed his nose against hers. "It only gets better."

"Here, it feels like that might actually be true," said Annabelle, tugging at the lapels of black wool coat. She wrapped her arms round his neck and hugged him, her feet briefly leaving the ground as he lifted her.

Being with each other, surrounded by beauty and light, Voldemort had ceased to exist. _When the war ends, it will be like this all the time,_ Annabelle thought. And hope, so strong it felt like a promise, overcame her as she held onto him, her cheek pressed to his.

_Soon, it will be like this all the time._


	11. When in Paris

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI: Lady Marmalade was a popular 70's song with the well-known lyric "Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir?" which basically (and in a strangely formal manner) means "Will you go to bed with me tonight?" Sure you've all heard some version of it, but if not, you might want to have a listen, as it is mentioned in this chapter a few times! ;)
> 
> Also, John Bonham was the drummer for Led Zeppelin – a popular 70's rock band, and Absinthe is a real thing. Wikipedia has a decent article on it.
> 
> Since J.K.R. phonetically writes out French accents, I am doing the same. (Sorry to people who get annoyed when authors do that, but it's the way of the HP series, so I'm sticking with it.)
> 
> French language corrections are welcome!

After the Sacré-Cœur, James, Lily, Sirius, and Annabelle met Jack and Rosie where they'd left them, and warmed up with some hot chocolate. Rosie looked drained; the Floo journey, the train ride, and the walk to the restaurant had sapped her already scarce energy, and she needed to rest. She mentioned wanting to save her strength for New Year's Eve the following night, but she hadn't stayed up past midnight in almost a decade so she wasn't making any promises. After they left, James seemed preoccupied, and the others gently reminded him that it was normal for her to need a break.

Most of the afternoon was spent walking through Montmartre, climbing hills and stairs; stopping by a local museum and the Renoir Gardens; passing by two real windmills, relics of a bygone Muggle era; and marvelling at the ingenuity of Muggles in general. Sirius stopped several times to admire motorbikes parked along the streets, even daring to climb onto one so James could get a picture.

"Hurry, before someone sees!" warned Annabelle.

Sirius pulled an exaggerated scowl as he pretended to rev the engine, and James had to take two photos because his laughter caused the camera to shake the first time.

"Those things are pretty cool looking, but useless," he said after Sirius joined them again.

Sirius shrugged. "A few flying charms could solve that problem."

"Sounds like a guaranteed way to get yourself killed," said Annabelle.

"You are thinking like a muggle," he said. "Wizards fly all the time on brooms. What's the difference?"

"With a chancer like you?"

Sirius seemed to consider her point. "I guess you would have to ride with me to make sure I didn't do anything mad."

" _Not_ going to happen," she replied, but she was smiling when she said it.

"We'll see about that."

Dinner was at eight o'clock, and after a bit more wandering, they returned to the hotel to get ready. The boys wore jackets and ties, and the girls wore simple dresses they hoped made them look chic instead of frumpy, deciding to save their fancier dresses for New Year's Eve. Lily's mum had felt the dresses called for a higher heel, and bought them both a pair for Christmas. She suggested they practise walking in them, and after four days, they felt they had the hang of it.

"Watch me fall flat on my face," said Annabelle as she slipped the shoes on.

"You'll be fine," said Lily. "I was the one who almost ended up on my arse."

Annabelle giggled, remembering Lily catching herself on the dining room table, almost yanking the table cloth off in the process. It was like watching a baby giraffe find its legs.

The Potters had decided on _Coquelicot_ for dinner, an elegant restaurant which had been frequented over the last century by famous artists and writers, Wizard and Muggle alike (unbeknownst to the Muggles, of course.) Their reservations weren't for another twenty minutes, so the boys went to the bar with Jack, and the girls helped Rosie through the crowd to a small table.

Straight out of La Belle Époque ** _,_** the décor was decadent, with pillars and high ceilings painted with murals, and dark wood bordering golden walls. The clinking of glasses and boisterous laughter rose above the music playing softly in background, and the room glowed with the warmth of the chandeliers and candlelight. Annabelle felt like she had just arrived in the Paris of her dreams.

"The magical community enjoys this restaurant as much as the Muggles," said Rosie. "I'm sure you can see why."

"It's beautiful," said Lily. "Like an old film."

Rosie smiled. "Well, dear, I wouldn't know much about old films, but the food is as delicious as the decor."

As the crowd shifted, Annabelle caught sight of Sirius, who was deep in conversation with Jack and James about what she could guess from their specific gestures and enthusiasm was Quidditch. Even though the room was busy, she could tell they were being careful from the way they would cup their hands to their mouths, leaning in furtively to say words like Quaffle, Bludger, and Snitch.

The way Sirius' eyes crinkled when he laughed, his cheeks almost dimpling, set bells off in Annabelle's heart. He was something to behold, and Annabelle couldn't stop stealing glances at him. And neither could the group of young women in the corner, who were nibbling their cocktail straws as they tried to get his attention. They were quite pretty with their black eyeliner and red lips, maybe in their early twenties, but Sirius was the most oblivious boy she'd ever met, and didn't seem to notice. Or if he had, he was playing it cool.

It wasn't the first time she'd had to endure others amorously ogling her boyfriend, and it wouldn't be the last. Occasionally it bothered her, especially if she was in a stroppy mood, but that night, everything was so wonderful, like the war had been a blip, and they were free to enjoy life. She wasn't going to let a group of strangers bring her down.

When Sirius caught Annabelle's gaze, he winked at her, and she grinned and blew him a kiss. His lips spread into a smile, and he blinked slowly as though feeling the kiss land on his cheek. Annabelle thought she might slide to the floor in a puddle of mush. She glanced at the girls in the corner and caught a few them looking at her before darting their eyes away. _Let them look at him_ , she thought with a twinge of triumph. She knew from experience how difficult it was not to.

Eventually, Jack and the boys joined them at the small table, followed by the server who presented them with a bottle of wine. He proceeded to pour everyone a glass. Lily and Annabelle were surprised he hadn't asked their age first, but went along with it. Jack, who already had a drink or two at the bar, raised his glass.

"Now before we toast, there are rules here in France," he explained. "You must maintain eye contact, you must clink glasses with each person individually, and you must not cross anyone else's arm as you do it."

"Or else?" asked James.

"Or else, you will be cursed with seven years of bad sex."

Simultaneously, Sirius coughed a laugh; Annabelle and Lily looked to each other with horrified grins; and James tipped his head back and covered his face. Fighting her own smile, Rosie scolded, "Jack, _please_."

"What darling? I don't make the rules," he said with a chuckle.

"So inappropriate, Dad," murmured James, shaking his head.

Sirius' laughter burst out of him then, and the rest of them followed suit. He took a breath and said, "He didn't make that up. I've heard it before."

"See?" Jack said. "Sirius knows the ways of the French. When in Paris, do as the Parisians do."

Rosie's lips finally gave up the fight, and she smiled, sending Jack a discreet wink and raising her own glass.

" _Santé_ ," she said, and everyone clinked glasses, repeating the toast. "Now who's in the mood to try snails? The French call them _escargots_."

They all ended up trying the snails, which were part of a culinary tour of France ordered by Jack and Rosie: mussels cooked in wine and shallots, charred octopus, duck cooked in its own fat, chicken stew, cheesy, bacony potatoes called _tartiflette_ , a variety of cheeses, and thick slices of crusty bread. Pudding was airy cream puffs and almond fudge.

"What do you think of muggle cooking now, Sirius?" asked Rosie.

He smiled sheepishly. "I admit, some muggles may have a gift for cooking. There, I've said it."

"Never thought I'd see the day," said James.

Lily had been nervous at first to try things like snails, mussels, and octopus, because she worried if she didn't like them, James' parents would think her uncultured. Thankfully, she enjoyed the mussels and the octopus, and she was able to force down a snail without a fuss. She passed on a second helping, though.

Everything (except the snails) had been delicious, and by the time the meal was finished, she had discovered a new appreciation for French cuisine. Jack had kept the conversation light and hilarious, focusing on his and Rosie's Hogwarts years, funny stories from James' childhood (James was surprisingly unembarrassed), and wizard joke upon wizard joke, to which everyone chimed in. He had a way of getting everyone involved in the conversation, and any nervousness Lily had been feeling had disappeared.

She saw so much of James in his father – the same sense of humour, the innate confidence, and the ever-present concern for Rosie, evident in the frequent questions as to how she was doing and feeling at any given moment. And Rosie had smiled and laughed during dinner, complementing Jack's stories with her own anecdotes and talking with the girls about their muggle upbringings, as though they were special for it, not inferior.

But as they stepped into the brisk night, Rosie seemed weaker than when they'd first arrived. The care with which Jack wrapped her scarf around her neck resonated with Lily. He was so vigilant, so gentle, and she couldn't tell if his eyes were watering from the cold or from witnessing Rosie's suffering.

"We're going to be returning to the hotel," Rosie said, "but feel free to stay out a bit later. Not too late, mind you. Be back, say… before midnight? I'd like to know when you return."

"And stay together," added Jack. "No one is to go off alone even if it's to the loo. Be alert."

It was already ten, so they would have two hours. Rosie warned them of the neighbourhoods to avoid, and kissed them all on their cheeks as they thanked her and Jack for dinner. She allowed Jack to help her into the waiting car, then waved good-bye before the driver closed the door. They watched as the car sped away.

"Two hours," said Sirius, glancing at his watch. "Where should we go?"

It was too late to visit any tourist attractions, since they would be closed now. They didn't know much about the muggle nightlife in Paris, and didn't want to accidentally walk into the wrong kind of place.

"Might as well go to Rue Fantasque," said James.

"Great," said Lily. "We can post Alice's letter."

It sounded like a good plan, and they descended into the Metro and studied the map.

"Looks like we have to take this line," said Annabelle, tracing the route with her finger.

The Metro functioned similarly to the London Underground, so they made it to their destination without a glitch. The 13th arrondissement where Rue Fantasque was located happened to be a bit off the beaten path. They turned down a street called Rue Moliere, and round the corner to a cul-de-sac by the river. There was a cement wall and some boarded up buildings, with the addition of rubbish littering the street, but not a person to be seen.

"I don't think Jack and Rosie would be pleased if they knew we were here," said Annabelle, peering about the eerily quiet, vacant corner of Paris.

"The only people coming here are wizards or criminals," explained James. "Which means we could take care of the criminals with magic if we needed to."

"We're probably safer here than out on the main road," added Sirius.

They approached the door of one of the rundown buildings. A cracked sign hanging over the door read, " _Le Placard à Balais._ " A paper was stuck on the window with the words "Under Renovation" written in several languages as a ruse to keep lost or curious muggles at bay. The streetlight above had been smashed out. After a quick look around them, James opened the door.

Instead of a pub like The Leaky Cauldron, they were standing inside a lively _brasserie_. Exposed brick walls, white linen table cloths, and candles on every table gave the place a cosy feel. James and Sirius had both been there before, and said the food was good, but not as good as where they had just been.

They passed through the restaurant to a small anteroom, which featured a large, well-stocked bookshelf.

"To open it," said James pointing to a book spine that read _Les Trois Mousquetaires,_ "you have to pull this book out, then knock on the shelf above to the tune of _Alouette_."

"Just the chorus?" asked Lily.

"Just the chorus."

He showed them how it was done, whispering the words to the song as he knocked, and the bookshelf gave a jolt before creaking open onto a cobblestoned road.

Flanked on either side with medieval shops, Rue Fantasque was quite similar to Diagon Alley, but a fair bit more open and sprawling. Trees with fairy-lights lined the pavements, and a Christmas tree sparkled in the middle of a grassy square further down, surrounded on all four sides with impressive, government buildings and a branch of Gringott's.

Past the shops, the patisseries with cakes and elaborate pastries in the windows, the cafés, and theatres where live performances of dance and drama could be seen, there was the giant department store _Le Créneau._ The window displays alone were worth a visit to the wizarding district, and they were still illuminated, despite the store being closed. Each window featured an animated winter scene with lifelike, moving mannequins modelling the most upmarket clothing a witch or wizard could buy. Annabelle had always thought Harrod's put on a good show, but when there was magic involved, everything else paled in comparison.

"Maybe I could be a window designer for Le Créneau," said Lily, still unsure of her future despite applying at several places for her internship. Rosie had told her at dinner if she wasn't sure, she should try many things, and not to listen when people told her otherwise. "You get one life," she had said. "Don't spend it on regrets." Lily decided to heed her advice, since it came from a happy person, content with her choices. Rosie must have known what she was talking about.

"That must be the most coveted job in all of wizardkind," said Annabelle.

"Besides pro-Quidditch player," corrected James, and Sirius agreed. Annabelle pulled a face, but said nothing.

"What?" asked James. "Are you saying you wouldn't take the job of Seeker for a pro team if it was offered to you?"

"Probably not."

He squinted at her in confusion. "You wouldn't want to get _paid_ to play _Quidditch_?"

"Eh… not really."

Sirius smiled, shaking his head, as though Annabelle's attitude toward Quidditch was some unsolvable mystery. James looked at her like she was nuts.

The Owlery was a few doors down, and there were several birds perched inside glassless stone arches. James clicked his tongue and a regal snowy owl swooped down to a wooden post. After sending the owl off with the letter and picture for Alice, they walked a little farther, the sound of music and voices growing louder until they reached a narrow side street. The sign read _Ruelle de la Dépravée_.

"Alley of the Depraved" said Sirius. "They named it after Peter."

"Ha, good one," replied James.

Lily's brow furrowed as she looked up at the sign. "Sounds a bit dodgy."

"It's just a name," said Sirius. "Come on." They rounded the corner, and he nodded toward a vibrant establishment where several young witches and wizards loitered in front. "That night club right there is the one Regulus sneaked out to one night when we were staying here. I begged him to take me with him, but I was only ten, and he told me to go to sleep. He came back at two in the morning saying it was the best night of his life."

A blinking purple sign read _Le Parapluie Violet_ , and on top of the marquis twirled a massive umbrella, covered in purple lights.

"Is it like the Moulin Rouge?" asked Annabelle, noting the similarity in signage.

"No," he replied with a smug chuckle. "The Can-Can is definitely only a muggle thing."

Lily glanced at her watch. "Well, if we're going to check it out, we had better do it quickly. We only have a little over an hour."

They walked to the door, attempting to be cool about it, and the doorman nodded them through despite not showing him any identification.

Inside was a vast dance floor surrounded by a balcony, with tables, chairs, and sofas lining the perimeter and the area near the bar. Purple curtains draped the walls, and floating, multi-coloured lights flashed and moved above the dancers. A disco ball hung in mid-air, suspended by magic, spinning round and sending a thousand squares of light over the patrons. The place had a moderate-sized crowd, but according to Sirius, it didn't get packed until after midnight.

"Drinks?" asked James, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Sirius shrugged one shoulder. "As Jack says, 'when in Paris, do as the Parisians do.'"

"Maybe we shouldn't quote my dad," said James, hoping his bad-sex comment didn't get brought up next. Sure, it was funny, but not when James was already preoccupied with thoughts of sex. Sex that might be happening that very night.

Like a Legilimens, Sirius quipped, "But we wouldn't want seven years of bad sex."

The girls laughed, and James felt his face burn. At least it was dark enough that they wouldn't notice. "Was hoping to forget he said that, but sure, let's keep mentioning it."

"Come on, Prongs, your dad is the _best_ ," said Sirius, still amused by Jack's audaciousness. James knew Sirius was right, so he didn't argue.

The bartender was a young, tanned wizard with dark brown hair slicked back into a ponytail, some loose strands falling around his ears. It was obvious he hadn't shaved in a few days, but other than that, he looked like a regular Casanova in his silk shirt with the sleeves rolled up above his wrists, and his roguish half-smile accompanied by a raised eyebrow when he saw the girls.

" _Bonsoir_ ," said Sirius, and they had a polite exchange in French before the bartender switched to English. He introduced himself as Emil.

"What would you like?" he asked.

Lily and James stuck with wine, but Sirius and Annabelle decided to be a bit more adventurous.

"I can make you zee _75,"_ offered Emil. _"C'est très bon."_

"What's in it?" asked Sirius, not wanting anything too strong. Getting drunk was not on the itinerary when they would be reporting to James' parents soon.

" _Champagne_ and _Cognac_ , made by wizards so you know eets zee best."

Sirius looked to Annabelle. "Want to try it?"

"Sure, why not. One can't hurt."

James and Lily found a small, velvet covered sofa by the window, close to where Sirius and Annabelle sat at the end of the bar. They settled in, sipping their wine, also not wanting to overdo it. Lily felt a tingling of nerves inside her body, wondering if she and James would still have the nerve to share a room later. Neither of them had mentioned it since Petunia's wedding, but she had a strong feeling James hadn't forgot, just as she hadn't. Part of her wanted to go through with it so badly, but the other part of her felt it would be disrespectful to the Potters, who believed they were sleeping in separate rooms. Additionally, they hadn't asked Sirius and Annabelle yet, but she had no reason to think they would object. She had seen it on their faces earlier, when they all arrived at the fourth floor of the hotel. They were just as eager as she and James were to share a room, though they wouldn't be the ones to suggest it.

"You can sit closer to me," said James. "If you want to."

Lily cozied up to him and he stretched an arm around her. She took a sip of her wine; it was dry and burned slightly going down, but nowhere near as much as fire whisky.

"Are you enjoying Paris so far?" he asked.

She almost laughed at how formal he was being, as though it was their first date.

"Very much. And your mum and dad are so kind, and I just adore them. Really."

"They adore you as well. Of course, who doesn't?"

She raised her glass to her lips. "Em, I can think of a few people."

"Demented Slytherins excluded."

"As long as you adore me, I don't care what other people think."

She looked up at him, and his intense expression made her stomach flip. He hadn't forgot. She set her wine glass on the low table in front of them and nestled her head into his neck. His fingers moved through her hair and she ran her hand over his cheek, his skin soft until she reached his jawline where she felt the tiniest scratch of stubble, a spot he'd missed shaving, perhaps.

"Remember the love poem you wrote me third year?" she asked.

"Oh god, please don't remind me."

"It was ghastly. It had words like _quiver,_ and _cherish,_ and _flower_ in it."

"You all must have laughed at me for days. Ah well, glad I could provide the entertainment."

"We did laugh. Lots. But I saved it for some reason."

"Did you?" he asked, genuinely surprised.

"I did."

"Huh. Interesting. Please burn it."

"Never. Nor will I forget how you used to stare at me in class. It was a bit creepy."

"Yeah, I've been meaning to apologise for that."

"You still do it sometimes."

A sheepish grin spread across his lips. "Oh… right. Must remember - stop being creepy."

"But I sort of like it now."

"And now I'm confused," he said with a sigh. "But I'll carry on being creepy then, if it makes you happy."

Lily giggled, biting her lower lip. "Please do."

How he had changed over the years, she mused. He was more aware of himself, his effect on others, and certainly more aware of her feelings. He was also the one who loved more generously than anyone she knew.

His lips brushed against her forehead, and her stomach fluttered. With a straight face, he looked into her eyes and whispered, " _Voulez_ - _vous coucher avec moi ce soir_?"

A burst of laughter escaped her. Leave it to James to crack a joke in passion-filled moment. She was glad he hadn't changed completely, because despite her former disdain for him, she had always secretly found him rather funny, and of course, adorable. And there he was, acknowledging in a clever way what they were both thinking.

"Well?" he asked. "Will you?"

She blew out a breath and leaned her head back on the sofa. "I want to, but your parents – they trust us and –"

"It's not like we'd be committing a crime. Besides, they're my parents - if I don't feel guilty, why should you?"

She winced a little. "Maybe you should?"

"Lil, they put us in rooms next door to each other, and they put themselves on a different floor. They can't be overly concerned or they would have made sure to reserve a block of rooms, even if it meant going to a different hotel."

"As I said, maybe they trust us."

"Maybe they trust us to make our own choices."

"Hmm… I guess you have a point," she said. "Let's see how Annie and Sirius feel about it when we get back."

James smiled. He knew as well as she did how Sirius and Annabelle would feel about swapping roommates.

At the bar, Sirius and Annabelle had tried to drink the "75" out of politeness to Emil the bartender, but found it revolting, and vanished it from their glasses when his back was turned. They were about to switch to something milder when Emil rested his arms on the bar in front of them and made another suggestion.

Staring at Annabelle, he asked, "You want to try some-zing really different?" Sirius had barely finished saying _no_ when Emil shook his head dramatically. "You will be missing out on zee ultimate French experience, one not even zee muggles could handle."

"Can you tell us what it's like, first?" asked Annabelle, not wanting anything remotely similar to the 75.

"Of course. _La Fee Verte_ , or as you would say, zee Green Fairy." He pointed to a glass pitcher on a silver stand on the corner of the bar. There was an actual green fairy flitting round it. "Eet was invented by a witch, and she illegally sold eet to muggles until zay become hooked on eet. But zee poor muggles like eet too much, and zair government had to take eet away, how you say _en Anglais_?

"Banned," said Sirius.

"Yes, they ban eet. But ees not banned for us."

"Never heard of it," said Annabelle. "Why did they ban it for muggles?"

"You see, _ma belle_ , zee stupid muggle governments blamed zee spirit for their stupid muggle behaviour after drinking eet, saying eet make them crazy and criminal. But non, zees was just a lie. Ees not dangerous, you understand? Eets mostly water."

He held up a bottle of bright green liquid labelled _Absinthe Millefeuille._

"You come to Paris, you must try zee Green Fairy. Or are you too afraid, like zee stupid muggle government?"

Sirius smirked. "Afraid of a drink called The Green Fairy? Not likely."

"So then eets _oui_?"

Sirius looked to Annabelle, and with a subtle shrug of approval, she said, "When in Paris…"

Sirius nodded to Emil. " _Oui_ ," he replied as he gave his head a casual toss, his hair falling back over his shoulder. As usual, Annabelle was in awe of his elegant indifference, and she pressed her knee into his. If anyone could pass for a Parisian, it was Sirius. She felt his knee push back into hers.

Emil went straight to work, clearly delighted to serve the special drink. He placed two glasses on the bar, filling them partway with the green liquid. Next, he placed the glasses under taps that extended from the pitcher, then set fancy perforated spoons on top of them. He put two sugar cubes on each spoon.

Giving Annabelle a wink, he said, "Next, ees water from zee fountain."

He turned on the two taps, pouring slender streams of water slowly over the sugar cubes, saturating them. The sugary water dripped down into the green liquid, turning it cloudy. When the glasses were full, he placed them in front of Sirius and Annabelle.

" _Les bohèmes_ or 'ow you say eet-"

"The bohemians," said Sirius.

" _Oui_ , zee bohemians would set zee sugar on fire, but you are like virgeens to zee Absinthe experience, so maybe we try next time."

Sirius was barely tolerating Emil, but Annabelle found him rather entertaining. He waited expectantly as they took a sip.

"Hmm. Tastes like liquorice," said Annabelle. "With plants, or something."

_"La belle fille sait de quoi elle parle,"_ he said to Sirius, then to Annabelle, "Eetz made of anise and botanics, you know what I mean? _"_

" _Merci_ , Emil," said Sirius, his tone and clenched jaw indicating Emil should go wait on other customers.

Emil raised an eyebrow at Sirius, and turned brusquely, strolling to the other end of the bar.

"What did he say?" asked Annabelle.

"He said the beautiful girl knows what she's talking about."

Annabelle tried not to grin. "Did he really?"

"He did. You didn't hear the word _belle_? It's only part of your name, beautiful Anna."

Warmth flooded her cheeks, and she looked down at her strange green drink. Sirius leaned in, kissing her under her ear. She felt his hand slip down to her tailbone.

"Would it be considered rude if I snogged you silly right now?" she asked him.

"I don't know, but can promise you, I don't care if it is."

She met his lips, and they kissed until they heard the chair beside Annabelle being pulled out. Separating, they each took a gulp of their drink, grimacing a little as it went down. Two young wizards were next to them, and greeted them with a " _Bonsoir_."

" _Bonsoir_ ," Annabelle replied, feeling braver about using the tiny bit of French she had learned from Sirius.

The music seemed to get louder, and more witches and wizards were filing in. Sirius gripped her hand under the bar, rubbing his thumb over her index finger, making her ache for him. Before she knew it, Emil was taking away their empty glasses and placing fresh ones in front of them, filled with the cloudy green liquid. She hadn't even noticed him making the drinks, nor had she remembered ordering them.

"Does this one taste stronger to you?" she asked, leaning against Sirius to stop the dizziness that rocked her for a moment. She watched the green fairy zip round the pitcher, and she felt like someone was tickling her head from the inside. It was possible the Muggles weren't wrong about the drink after all.

"Maybe a bit." He squinted at the glass, then raised his eyebrows, then squinted again. "It's so _green_ ," he observed.

"It's so pretty."

They drank some more while Sirius tried to translate the words to the pop song playing, but it was too fast for him. He knew his French wasn't awful, but despite what Annabelle thought, it certainly wasn't perfect. Or maybe the drink was to blame.

" _Merde_ ," he muttered discreetly, embellishing his French accent on purpose. "I don't know if I'll be able to walk to _Le Metro_ if I drink the rest of this."

Annabelle laughed and repeated with gusto, " _Le Metro."_

He leaned in, his eyelids feeling heavy, and rested an arm against hers. "Your French is sublime."

" _You_ are sublime. Say something beautiful in French."

He brought his lips to her ear. _"Tu es pour moi la plus belle."_

"More," she said, sliding her hand up his thigh, not knowing what he was saying, but luxuriating in the sound of his voice speaking such a lovely language.

_"J'ai envie de toi,"_ he said, then kissed her neck.

"Keep going."

He met her eyes. " _Je suis amoureux de toi."_

Just as they were about to kiss, Annabelle shrieked. A hand had touched her shoulder.

"Shh," laughed Lily. "It's just me. Time to go. What are you drinking?"

"A Green Fairy, or something." She held the glass to Lily's lips a bit too forcefully, but Lily steadied her hand and took a sip.

"Not bad. Tastes like liquorice. Finish it up, because we have to get back."

After paying their bill, Sirius offered Annabelle his arm, and she took it, not realising until her feet were on the floor that she was tipsy. But otherwise, she was feeling grand for a drink that had such a bad reputation among Muggles.

Lily noticed, though, that Annabelle and Sirius were having trouble walking a straight line as they headed to _Le Placard à Balais._ They stumbled through the restaurant, Annabelle tripping over nothing and Sirius catching her, both laughing a bit too loud as they staggered out into the dark street.

The neighbourhood was desolate at that time, and James was already anxious enough about what might or might not occur when they got back to the hotel, without a stumbling drunk Sirius and Annabelle adding to his nerves. He would have to check in with his parents alone, and hope they hadn't wanted to see all four of them upon their return.

"How much could they have possibly consumed in an hour?" he asked Lily, as Annabelle and Sirius played a game wherein Annabelle would call out a word or phrase in English, and Sirius would repeat it dramatically in French. They were currently in stitches over Sirius' translation of "bloody wanker" – " _branleur foutu!"_

"I don't think it's a question of how much, but of _what_ ," she answered.

"What were you two drinking?" James snapped from behind them. Lily gave his hand a calming squeeze.

"Something _vert_ ," Sirius replied. "Absinthe, I believe the bottle said."

"Emil mixed it with water," said Annabelle. "We only had a _tiny little bit_ when you think of all the water."

"You're acting like you drank the entire bottle."

"Are we?" Sirius asked, smirking. "Wait – are you saying we're… _ivres?_ On two watery drinks?"

Annabelle cracked up laughing, guessing correctly from context that _ivres_ meant drunk.

"Okay, Sirius, we get it," said James. "You speak French. Stop showing off."

Sirius inhaled sharply, paused, tipped his head back, and belted out, " _Voulez_ - _vous coucher avec moi ce soir_?!" Annabelle chimed in as he sang it again.

Lily tried not to laugh, because James was clearly annoyed, and maybe even a little embarrassed they were singing _that_ song in particular, even though she knew it was a coincidence.

Sirius stopped singing and announced, "The song should really say, _'Tu as envie de coucher avec moi ce soir?'_ It would make more sense."

James rolled his eyes and led Lily around them.

"But that doesn't fit the melody," said Annabelle.

"You're right."

They both started up again with the song, and this time, Lily rolled her eyes as well. Knowing what she and James were planning to do, it almost felt like a taunt, even though Sirius and Annabelle had not been informed of their momentous plans.

"Whoa," said Annabelle as she tripped on crack in the pavement. "High heels are bollocks."

"Just don't hurt yourself, Annie," warned Lily. "Do you want me to take your other arm?"

"Are you implying Annie is not in good hands?" questioned Sirius, his tone only partially teasing.

"No, Sirius," answered James tiredly. "She's implying that you're both completely legless." He added under his breath, "And obnoxious."

Sirius and Annabelle looked at each other and fell into hysterics again.

On the Metro, Lily worried Sirius and Annabelle were too pissed to share a room. Visions of them falling out a window, or accidentally impaling themselves on an overturned high-heel flashed in her mind, but they seemed to calm down some on the train, even resting their heads on each other and dozing off for a time. They didn't appear to be sick or anything, so maybe the alcohol had affected them more because they were tired. It had been a long day, and two drinks that were more water than alcohol couldn't have made them this loopy.

"I think they're okay," said James. He squeezed her hand, and again, her stomach flipped.

"Yeah, so do I."

"The Green Fairy," he said, giving a small chuckle.

"Leave it to Annie and Sirius."

"I know."

On the walk to the hotel, Sirius and Annabelle kept giggling and snickering quietly, and while James was still annoyed, he was glad they had the presence of mind to lower their voices in the more populated area.

When they reached their destination, he sent them upstairs with Lily, and stopped by his parents' room. It was late, and he hated to wake them, but it would be worse if he didn't and they frantically came upstairs to check on them later.

He knocked softly, and his dad answered the door in his pyjamas, his grey hair sticking up like James' did most of the time. He looked exhausted.

"Ah, Jamie, you made it back. Very good."

"How's mum?"

"Been asleep for hours. Did you have a good time?"

"Yeah. We went to Rue Fantasque for a bit."

"The girls like it?"

"They did." He wanted to see his mum for some reason, wanted to hug her goodnight, but he knew it would be selfish to disturb her when she needed her rest. "What time should we meet you tomorrow morning?"

"Eh, don't rush yourselves," his dad said with a wave of his hand. "Nine or ten, it's up to you. The continental breakfast is until ten."

"All right," he said, giving his father a hug. "G'night, Dad."

"Good night, son. Sleep well."

Upstairs, Lily unlocked the door and left it open, but Annabelle stayed out in the corridor snogging Sirius. Soon James stepped out of the lift. "Merlin, get a room," he said.

"Give us the key and we will," said Sirius, holding out his hand.

It was too easy, James thought. He and Lily never even had to ask.

"Annie. Come here," Lily called, having heard the exchange from inside. Sirius took a moment to whisper something in Annabelle's ear, while James and Lily looked on impatiently. Then Annabelle joined Lily in the room. Lily smiled at James, and raised her finger. _One minute_ , she mouthed to him.

As Annabelle shuffled into the room, James dragged Sirius into the boys' room. Sirius' eyes were already closing despite standing up, and James said, "Are you still wasted? Because if you are, there is no way we're trading rooms."

"We barely drank anything," said Sirius. "I am perfectly sober."

"And Annie?"

"She's sober, as well."

"Are you sure?" James asked as he went into the bathroom to brush his teeth. "Because Lily won't let her stay in here if you're blotto."

" _Yes_. We had two drinks. Same as you, if I recall correctly."

"We had one each."

"Oh, _pardon_ me. Do I sound pissed to you?"

"No, but-"

"But nothing. Now bugger off already. You're doin' my head in."

At the same time, in the room next door, Lily was making sure this arrangement was actually going to happen.

"Are you sure you're fine?" Lily asked Annabelle.

Annabelle did her best to act normal, as Siruis had instructed. "Yes, Lil. I'm just knackered."

"You were a bit drunk when we left Rue Fantasque."

Annabelle heaved a dramatic sigh. "You're exaggerating."

"You almost fell down twice."

"Because of the high heels. But honestly, if you don't want to switch rooms, we don't have to. Is that it? You don't want to?"

"No, I – I do – I want to. But-"

"I'm not drunk, Lil, and I can take care of myself. I don't need a mummy." She grabbed her nightgown from her suitcase, then went into the bathroom for her toothbrush.

"Hold on, Annie, I'm not trying to be a mummy, I'm trying to be a _friend_."

"Sirius is my boy _friend_."

"I _know_ that-"

"So why are you so concerned?"

Lily felt if Annabelle was coherent enough to argue so pointedly, she was coherent enough not to injure herself if left to her own devices. "All right, fine, as long as you're okay. Just… be careful. And remember… you know… _protection_."

Annabelle twisted her face into an almost comical look of indignation. "You think I'm daft? _You'd_ best remember."

Suddenly self-conscious, Lily replied, "Annie, what makes you think James and I-"

The boys knocked on the door, and Lily cut her question short. Annabelle grinned like an imp as she opened the door.

"Night, Lil," she said, taking Sirius' hand and leading him next door.

" _Bonsoir_ ," said Sirius, grinning as well. "See you in the morning."

James tossed Sirius the key, and he actually caught it - further proof that everything would be fine.

"Lock your door," called Lily as the door closed behind them, followed by Annabelle's voice saying, " _Colloportus!"_ and the sound of the bolt clicking into place.

"So much for no magic," said James, turning to Lily.

"They're okay, right?"

"Yeah, they're okay."

She looked up at him, then lowered her eyes, a blush rising in her cheeks. "I'm going to change into my nightgown."

"All right," he said, and waited until she locked herself in the bathroom to get undressed as well.

He found it funny that they were putting on pyjamas just to take them off again, but maybe it was better that way. He wasn't about to get completely starkers – Lily might find that a bit abrupt, and he didn't want to appear too eager, either. He heard the sink turn on, and he climbed under the covers, his heart beating like a John Bonham drum solo.

Meanwhile, Lily stood in front of the bathroom mirror, trying to calm the flutter in her stomach that wouldn't go away. What they were about to do had been there in every tender look shared between them that evening, every squeeze of his arms around her, every time he brushed the hair from her face with the tips of his gentle fingers. The hotel room wasn't a hidden chamber or broom cupboard – it was a private space in the most romantic city in the world. The flutter was one of anticipation, not nerves, and she covered her mouth as she smiled.

Outside the bathroom, James was starting to panic. How often had he ached for her and _dreamt_ of this moment? Now, he felt paralysed. What if he was terrible at it? What exactly did he have to do to _not_ be bollocks at it? What if she was disappointed and never wanted him to touch her again? His muscles tensed as she climbed under the covers and snuggled up to him.

Through the wall, Sirius and Annabelle were making all kinds of asinine noises. Peals of laughter and other suggestive sounds, broken up by intermittent thuds of their headboard against the wall only served to aggravate James more. He had a feeling they were doing it on purpose, unless they weren't, which would make it extra toe-curlingly awkward, but either way he couldn't take it anymore.

"Good grief, they're loud," said Lily, also wishing they would belt up.

"For the love of Merlin!" James shouted. "Quiet the fuck down or cast the soundproofing charm!"

For a moment there was silence, and James and Lily looked hopefully at each other, but then laughter broke out from the other side of the wall, followed by the soundproofing incantation. The silence returned, for good.

James and Lily lay still, then chuckled at the same time. "You handled that well," she said, running her hand over his chest.

Merlin, she was so beautiful, James thought, with all that glorious ginger hair spilling over her shoulders, and her eyes that looked at him like he was special. He turned on his side to face her, and she pulled his glasses off, setting them on the nightstand beside her. Turning back, she ran her hand over his cheek.

"This was one of the best days of my life," she said. "You gave it to me."

She pressed her lips to his, and they started kissing. He wanted her so badly, and it wasn't long before he was pushing up her nightgown and she was sitting up to pull it off the rest of the way. Her hands moved to his pyjama bottoms and he was so turned on, but the panic was still beating away in his chest. No, he couldn't carry on in this state. He moved her hand away and sat up, holding his head in his hands.

"Oh god, I don't know what the hell I'm doing."

Startled, Lily pulled the duvet over herself. "Wha- what are you talking about?"

" _This_ ," he said. "Sex! All right? I don't know what I'm doing. I mean, I know - you know - the logistics of it, but… what if you're disappointed? What if I'm rubbish at it? What does one have to do wrong to _be_ rubbish at it? I don't even know!"

Lily let out a breath. "Wow. You had me thinking it was me for a moment."

He turned to her. "Are you kidding? Lily, I have thought about doing this with you every day since we started going out, maybe even before that. No, definitely before that. Not on purpose, at least back then - you would kind of just pop into my mind _sans_ clothing."

"Shhh," she said, scooting closer to him and resting her chin on his shoulder. "We don't have to do this, James, not if you aren't ready."

"Oh, I'm ready, believe you me. I'm beyond ready. I just don't want to let you down."

"Don't forget, I've never done this before either, so… if you're sure you want to keep going, how about we just stick to the basics, and go from there? We can do what feels good. If it doesn't feel good, we don't do it? All right?"

He let out a breath. "Sounds reasonable." They lay down again, and James held her close, the panic slowly dissolving. "Did you ever think you'd be giving your boyfriend a pep talk the first time you had sex with him?"

"I love that my boyfriend gets nervous sometimes," she replied, then kissed his cheek, "because it means he's human, like me," she kissed his other cheek, "and that he wants to make me happy."

"I love you, Evans."

She grinned at the mention of his former way off addressing her, from before they had fallen in love.

"And I love you, Potter. Now how about less talk, and more of your perfect lips on mine?"

He answered accordingly.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

After Annabelle had charmed the door to lock, Sirius stumbled to his bed and fell backwards onto it, barely able to keep his eyes open.

"I didn't think Lily would let you out of her sight," he said.

"I'm a brilliant actress," said Annabelle as she climbed on top of him, almost falling when her knee slipped off the mattress. "Yikes," she said, and began loosening his tie. Sirius convulsed with laughter.

They had done a good job of acting sober, despite the Absinthe's hold on them. Annabelle buried her face in his neck, and the room started spinning, so she sat up, straddling him, and pushed her hair out of her face.

"Ahh… Annie, yesss!" he groaned, thrusting his hips, and they both cracked up again, so she gave a few bounces on him, causing the bed to squeak. They knew the walls were thin, and sometimes it was fun to bother James.

"Uhh," Sirius grunted, more from discomfort than anything else, his already queasy stomach sloshing with alcohol. He reached over and banged on the headboard for effect. Annabelle doubled over and rolled off of him, holding her stomach as she slid to the floor. There was a massive ladder in her tights, and she ran her fingers over it as she tried to figure out why she was no longer on the bed.

She moaned loudly, partly to add to the show, but mostly because she felt like she was going to be sick. They fell into hysterics again.

"For the love of Merlin!" James' voice boomed through the wall. "Quiet the fuck down or cast the soundproofing charm!"

They paused in their antics, delighted by his reaction, then burst into another fit of wild laughter. Sirius, whose wand was on the bed, cast the charm to soundproof the room. Bothering James was only fun for so long.

"Will you be joining me, Annie? Or do I have to come down there." She had to think about her answer, and he sat up, scooting to the edge of the bed. "You all right?"

"Shhhure, grand." She crawled between his legs and began unbuttoning his trousers. "Wanna-me to-" she began, but a wave of nausea ripped through her and she held still for a moment, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Yesss," sighed Sirius, falling onto his back, his eyes closed again.

She had got his trousers undone and was in the process of pulling them down, when another wave hit her, and she abandoned her mission. Crawling on her hands and knees to the bathroom, she made it to the loo for the third merciless roll of her stomach, and out came the Absinthe, turning the toilet water a toxic green.

"Oww," she groaned as she coughed, then pain twisted her insides again, and more green fluid was disgorged.

It was few minutes - or possibly longer, he couldn't be sure - before Sirius realised Annabelle was no longer in the room. He must have drifted into unconsciousness for a time. Now, he sat up and staggered towards the bathroom, his own stomach giving a violent heave before he made it. Falling to his knees over the waste paper bin, he was sick, then sick again, then several more times before his stomach, finally empty, went still.

Resting his head on the navy-carpeted floor, he murmured, "What… the fuck… did we drink…"

Annabelle opened her eyes; she had fallen asleep with her head on the toilet seat.

"Sirius?" she croaked. "You all right?"

"Mm-hmm."

She collapsed beside the toilet, her cheek on the cool floor tiles. How could she have got so sick off two drinks? No, maybe it was the snails. It had to be the snails. She thought about crawling out of the bathroom, maybe trying to make it to the bed, but before she made up her mind, she was pulled into oblivion again, led by a little green fairy.

 


	12. A Last Hurrah

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_"The beauty of the world...has two edges, one of laughter,_

_one of anguish, cutting the heart asunder."_

_― Virginia Woolf_

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The next morning, after her shower, Lily stood in front of the bathroom mirror again. There was no noticeable difference in her appearance from the day before to now, but she felt different, somehow. _Ah, maybe it's all in my head_ , she told herself, but she couldn't help grinning at her reflection before exiting so James could shower. He had suggested they shower together, but that seemed infinitely more intimidating than first-time sex for some reason, and there was the chance Annabelle might return at any moment. So instead, she kissed him, trailing a finger down his bare chest and almost forgetting it was New Year's Eve, and that she was in Paris. James was all she could think about.

After his shower, James slipped back into his pyjamas since his clothes were next door, and sat down in the chair by the window. They waited a few more minutes, Lily curled up on his lap, dotting his face with kisses, but there was no sign of Sirius and Annabelle.

"Should we ring them?" she asked.

"We could."

She went to the phone and dialled.

"They're not answering."

"Huh. Did you do it right?"

"James, I have a telephone in my house. I know how to use one."

"Right. Of course. We could try again in a few minutes."

"It's nine o'clock. We have to meet your parents at breakfast."

"Let's knock, then," he suggested. "Let them know we're ready."

They knocked several times, growing concerned when no answer came.

"They couldn't have left, could they? Annie didn't take a change of clothes with her last night."

"Only one way to find out," James said, and discreetly used his wand to unlock the door. Lily opened it a crack, giving them fair warning before going inside.

"Hello. Anyone home?" she trilled, but covered her nose when she was hit with the stench of vomit. "Oh my god. It's putrid."

James pushed the door open further, and froze when he saw Sirius face down on the floor with the waste paper bin tipped over beside him, its contents soaking the carpet, as well as Sirius himself. He was still wearing his dress shirt and trousers from the night before. Squeezing past a shocked Lily, James went to him, kneeling beside him.

"Padfoot," he said as he tried to roll him over. "Wake up."

"Where's Annie?" demanded Lily, feeling like she had stepped into a nightmare. If their best friends were dead because she and James decided to have sex she would never forgive herself.

Sirius groaned at the same time a strangled sound came from the bathroom, and Lily rushed towards it. She found Annabelle on the floor, a mess of green sludge filling the toilet beside her and coating her hair.

"Annabelle… try to sit up!" she said, giving her a shake.

Annabelle began to raise herself on her arms, but fell back to the floor, gripping her head. "Shite," she said, "It hurts." Lily helped her into a seated position against the bathtub.

"I thought you were dead," she said, her voice shaky.

"Not dead. Just… _ow_."

"Come on," Lily said, "let's get you back to our room to clean up."

"Annie?" Sirius called, his voice gurgly. He appeared in the doorway, covered in the same green mess.

"I'm all right," Annabelle said. "Are you?"

He closed his eyes and slid down the door frame.

"He has a headache," said James. "Here, take this." He passed Annabelle a small vial labelled Remedium Inebriari. "It's a hangover cure. We picked some up in Hogsmeade when we sneaked out before Christmas. Takes about ten minutes to work, or so the Potioneer claimed."

"I'm so sorry," said Annabelle. "We didn't plan this, I swear!"

"Don't worry about it," said James, who was relieved nothing worse had happened. "Just drink the potion."

She swallowed the contents of the vial, shuddering as it went down, and allowed Lily to help her up. Lily gestured toward the mess, indicating to James she would clean it up, but he waved her off. A few simple charms and the bathroom would be sparkling.

They stepped over Sirius, who had his head propped up in his hands. Annabelle leaned down and whispered, "See you in a bit," then gave his shoulder a squeeze.

He nodded without removing his hands. Once the girls had gone, James stepped over him and began charming the mess away. When he finished, he leaned against the sink and looked at Sirius.

"Are you going to sit there all day?"

"Lily was right. She wasn't safe with me. I should've listened."

"She's hungover, mate. That's all. Now, please, get in the shower before I vomit as well."

"She could have hit her head, or choked to death or something…"

James hoped this mishap hadn't triggered one of Sirius' gloomy episodes, since neither he nor Annabelle had intended to get wasted. But James had noticed early on in his friendship with Sirius how he had a tendency to blame himself for everything, so instead of rebuking him for the very convincing sober act he pulled the night before, he decided to take a more optimistic approach.

"You could have, as well. But you didn't, so let's get up and get moving. Come on, Padfoot, it's New Year's Eve! You're both going to be ace in a few minutes."

Sirius eased his way up from the floor, and James stepped out, closing the door behind him. After surveying the mess Sirius had left in the main room, he continued the clean-up process. Any other day, James would have made him clean up after himself, but he was feeling rather compassionate that morning, and they didn't have time to waste. When he finished, he set his wand down and pushed open the window, where he stood for a bit, breathing in the cold air as his thoughts shifted to the night before with Lily. He grinned like a fool.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"I'm sorry I let you switch rooms last night," said Lily as she unzipped Annabelle's dress. She wasn't angry over what had happened, but she was shaken. "I didn't think two drinks could do that to anyone."

"Neither did I," droned Annabelle. "What happened to us?"

She helped Annabelle step out of the vomit-soaked dress. "I don't know, but you were in worse shape than you let on, that's for sure."

"We didn't _want_ to get drunk," said Annabelle, and then she froze, the details from the night before coming back to her. "I'm so sorry, Lil. I was a right hag to you, wasn't I?"

"I wouldn't go that far," said Lily, giving her a frail half-smile before turning her attention back to the dress. She it held in her hand by the clean side. "Merlin, I feel like slapping that bartender."

"Me too." Annabelle's face contorted and she cried, "Am I turning into my mother?"

"Oh, Annie, of course not!" said Lily, taking Annabelle's face in her hands. "You didn't even drink that much! Don't cry."

"I'm so embarrassed. Sirius is as well, I could tell."

"Now, Annie, there's no need for that. We love you even when you're belting out the words to _Lady Marmalade_ ," she said with a chuckle, then added, "and banging on your headboard."

Annabelle smiled through her tears. "That was Sirius' idea."

"I figured as much." Annabelle let out a small laugh, and Lily kissed her cheek, careful to avoid the dried vomit near her ear. "You're sure you're all right, then?"

"Positive," she said, standing up straighter and wiping her eyes. "Whatever I was drinking, it's well out of me now."

"Sirius won't touch a glass of wine all day," Lily predicted, knowing he would be angry at himself for what had happened. "You watch."

"Neither will I. The thought repulses me." Lily turned to go, but Annabelle caught her arm. "Just ignore whatever rubbish I said last night, all right?" Choking up again, she said, "I'd be lost without our friendship."

Lily smiled. "I've already forgot. Now wash the stink off yourself and let's go. The Eiffel Tower is calling our names!"

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The hangover cure worked wonders, and after breakfast, which consisted mainly of baguettes with jam and butter along with café au laits, they filed into the cars provided by the Potters and headed to the Eiffel Tower.

During the ride over, Sirius was subdued, leaning his head against the window and watching the city pass by. Annabelle was so absorbed in the sights, it took a moment to register his silence.

"Head still hurt?" she asked.

"No."

"What's the matter then?"

He rested his head on the seatback. "I want to strangle Emil."

Annabelle giggled quietly.

"It's not funny, Annie."

"So you're going to brood over it all day?"

"Not _all_ day…" he said, frowning as he looked at her. "I'm sorry I almost let you drown in the loo."

Annabelle laughed again. "I was self-aware enough not to stick my head into the toilet bowl."

"You know what I mean."

"In that case, I'm sorry as well. You could have fallen and cracked your head open or something and I wouldn't have been able to help you." Sirius remained quiet, and she said, "See how useless it is to blame yourself? Neither of us meant for it to happen, and no one could have guessed how sick two drinks consisting mostly of water would make us."

"Emil probably could have."

"Well, it's too late now, so let's just take it as a lesson. Never drink anything called The Green Fairy again."

He huffed. "I never want to hear the words 'Green Fairy' again."

She chewed the inside of her lip and turned back toward the window. "Neither do I. Let's talk about how we're together, in Paris, on New Year's Eve with our best friends. Now _that_ is magical, isn't it?" She looked back at him, waiting for a response.

He flopped his head toward her, then sat up and took her hand. "It is, indeed."

"And we are going to have a magical day among the Muggles."

"Yes, love. We will."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Rosie and Jack accompanied them to the Eiffel Tower, the first stop of the day. The lift to the top was an entirely different experience for Sirius this time round. Unlike his mother, Rosie never even flinched in the crowd of Muggles, and she seemed genuinely happy to be there, wanting to have this experience with her family and guests. He could see why James was fretting over her; the bags under her hazel eyes were more pronounced, and she held tight to Jack's arm, leaning into him every now and then for support.

At a glance, one might only see a wealthy older couple, groomed and dressed impeccably, but underneath they were two of the kindest, most humble people Sirius had ever known. Before he met them, his faith in humanity had almost been depleted, and he was hanging on by a thread. But they invited him into their world, treating him like their own son, and wanted nothing in return from him – no conforming to certain ideals, no expecting him to be someone he wasn't, and there was certainly no violence in their household, something that took Sirius a long time to stop expecting. It had boggled his mind at first. _Why are they so kind to me?_ he had thought time and time again. Later, he came to understand it was the way parents were meant to love their children. Unconditionally, and for who they are.

Seeing Annabelle and Lily's excitement as they stepped off the lift took the edge off the Absinthe mishap. Even James was smiling, holding no grudge over how obnoxious Sirius had been to him the night before. The nagging sound of _you don't deserve these people_ resounded through his head, but then Annabelle grabbed him by both hands and pulled him toward the view, her entire being alight with joy. The words belonged to his parents _,_ he reminded himself, and they were wrong. With a deep breath and powerful effort, he stifled them.

More pictures were snapped, Jack pointed out other attractions which looked impossibly small from their vantage point, and they even caught Jack and Rosie stealing a kiss. They weren't the only ones stealing kisses that morning, as Paris seemed made for that sort of thing. When they had spent more than enough time at the top, they took the lift back down to the base, where Rosie sat down in the park to rest.

While James and Sirius fussed over her, Lily and Annabelle found a bench and sat down together. Lily whispered to Annabelle, "She doesn't seem like she's over the flu, does she?"

"No, but isn't Black Cat Flu worse than your average flu? Maybe this is a normal part of recovery – being tired all the time."

"It's painful to watch her suffering so."

"Jack is taking care of her. Look, he has the cars waiting and everything."

Sure enough, there were the three black cars, parked where they had let them off.

James approached the girls and said, "The cars are going to drop us off at the Arc du Triomphe, but there's no lift, so my parents are going to meet us at Notre-Dame in a bit."

"We don't have to go the Arc du Triomphe if it's too much for her," said Lily.

Annabelle agreed. "Really, we're fine with missing it."

"Everything is too much for her," said James, looking off into the distance. "I wish they had saved this trip until spring when she was feeling better."

"Does she need to go back to the hotel and rest for a bit?" asked Lily.

"Dad said they're going to head over to Rue Fantasque, see if they can get some anti-vertigo potion. She's feeling unsteady when she walks."

When the girls expressed their willingness to forgo the Arc du Triomphe to Rosie, she was insistent that they see it. She wanted them to walk the Champs-Élysées, have tea and macarons at Ladurée, and stroll through the Jardin des Tuileries, which was blanketed in a thin veil of snow. The cars would be waiting for them at Notre-Dame. No matter how much they protested, she wouldn't take no for an answer. Jack had been quiet during the discussion, his arm firmly around Rosie's shoulders, and a weariness in him surfacing as though it had been in him all along. When he and Rosie headed to the car, Jack brightened long enough to say good-bye, but not without a noticeable effort.

No one spoke of Rosie's health again after that, because speaking of it would only upset James, and above all things, Rosie wanted James to be happy.

The Arc du Triomphe had provided another breathtaking view of the city, albeit a different one from the top of the Eiffel Tower. The Champs-Élysées was next, and they walked, admiring the lights and festive shop windows as snowflakes drifted through the chilly air. New Year's had brought everyone out into the streets, and the avenue was bustling with tourists and locals alike. After stopping at a chocolate shop to stock up on gifts for their friends, they did as Rosie instructed and visited Ladurée for tea and macarons. Sirius wanted to buy a box for Jack and Rosie as a thank you, but they all insisted on chipping in. Knowing how much Jack adored the delicate little treats, they purchased a large box, then continued to the Tuileries Garden.

The tea and macarons had been enough to keep them going, but when they reached the area near the Louvre, they were hungry. There was little bistro just off the main road where they ate Croque Monsieurs, which James referred to as "the Cheese Toasty's posh cousin." They posed for pictures in front of the Louvre, but decided not to go inside. The line was exceptionally long and James' parents would be waiting. By the time they reached Notre-Dame, their feet were sore from all the walking, but their pain became an afterthought as the front of the cathedral revealed itself to them. Sirius spotted the black cars parked nearby, and James jogged over to alert his parents that they were there.

Rosie walked slowly into the cathedral with the help of her husband and son. She stayed seated the entire visit, but they were happy she was feeling well enough to join them. Jack did an imitation of Quasimodo, contorting himself and limping as he exclaimed, " _Sanctuary! Sanctuary_!" much to everyone's amusement. After following a tour group for a bit, Annabelle wandered over to the votive candles. There were so many of them, flickering in the dim half-light. Muggles loved candles, she noted, even though they rarely had need of them. She recalled going with Mrs. Brennan to Mass occasionally, watching her light candles very much like ones in front of her, so she decided to drop a coin in the donation box and light one for her mother. When she was finished, she stayed and watched it, holding on to her locket, and hoping it didn't get blown out as soon as she walked away.

"Hello," said Sirius, edging up beside her. "Mind if I keep you company?"

She linked her arm through his. "I don't mind a bit. Shall we light a candle for Rosie?"

His brows knitted together, and he asked, "What for? Aren't they just for remembrance?"

"They can be for whatever you want. Prayers as well, if you like."

He gave a small shrug. "Sure, then. Can't hurt."

They lit the votive, and stood still amidst the people bustling around them, watching the candle burn.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Before they left, Rosie presented them with locks, one for James and Lily, and one for Sirius and Annabelle, to place on the _Pont des Arts,_ or as it was also known, The Love Lock Bridge, which was located a short distance from the Cathedral.

"It's a tradition," she explained to them. "You write a message of love on the lock, clip it to the fence along the bridge, then throw the key into the river Seine below."

"No quills, so you'll have to use this," said Jack, tossing James a marker he had conjured so discreetly and with such ease, one would have thought he'd had it his hand the entire time. They kept it simple, writing "I'll love you always," and "JP + LE," and other sentiments of that nature on their locks. Sirius wrote his in French and when he told Annabelle what it meant, she wrote the same on the other side in English. Before they left for the bridge, Jack called James back over.

"And lock this one on there for me." His Dad handed him a lock, but James didn't read it, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

"You're not coming with us?" James asked.

"We will meet you before dinner. All right, son?"

James nodded, and reluctantly parted ways with his parents again. Before the holidays, he had assumed he would be hoping for time away from them in Paris, but it turned out quite the opposite. Most of the time, it felt like they weren't even there, and he wasn't happy about it.

At the bridge, James looked down at the lock his father had handed him. It said, **_To Rosie, Tu es ma joie de vivre. Love, Jack._**

You are the joy of my life. He clipped it onto the bridge first, and Lily and Annabelle clipped the others around it. Then, at the count of three (in French of course), they tossed their keys into the Seine.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Dinner was another extravagant affair, this time at a restaurant closer to the hotel. Sirius and Annabelle hadn't planned to drink, but Jack wanted a toast to the New Year, so they obliged. Rosie had been usually quiet during the meal, and she ate very little. Her face was drawn, and every bite of food seemed like work for her. James watched her throughout the meal, darting his eyes away when she would look back at him, and Jack kept asking her if she wanted something else, a cup of tea perhaps, or a bowl of broth, but she told him no, and to stop fussing over her. Afterwards, Jack and Rosie went back to the hotel, but not before shooing them off, telling them to ring in the New Year without them, as they would most likely be in bed. The one condition was to check in when they got back.

They took the Metro to the Latin Quarter, and even though they were still full from dinner, they shared banana and chocolate crepes.

"Mmm," said Lily. "This is heavenly."

It had been a long day, and so they found a bench and decided to sit and watch the muggles for a bit, some of them already drunk and celebrating. Instead of ringing in the New Year with the endless, teeming masses by the Eiffel Tower, they would go back to Montmartre, their little home away from home in Paris. There would be a crowd there as well, but at least the hotel was only a short walk away.

Once they arrived in Montmartre, they walked for a bit until they found a small, candlelit bar. The crowd at Sacré-Cœur was mad, and the idea of a nightclub didn't appeal to them. Although the bar was packed to the gills, the patrons were jovial and inviting. They each had some wine, Sirius and Annabelle sipping theirs very slowly, and just before midnight, free champagne and noisemakers were passed around.

"This is it," said Annabelle to Sirius, where they were trapped against the wall. "Farewell to 1977."

The countdown from 10 began.

"Remember where we were last year at this time?" asked Sirius, pulling her flush against him.

She bowed her head, grinning. "I do."

"Maybe we could revisit that night a bit later."

She wagged her eyebrows, giving his tie a playful tug. "Not too much later, I hope."

"I'm afraid it will have to wait until next year, _mon amour_."

Annabelle laughed and suddenly the place erupted in cheers as the clock struck midnight. Sirius' lips met hers, and the noise faded into the distance.

Before long, Lily and James were pulling them into hugs and kisses on cheeks, and they toasted to 1978 before stepping outside. Many of the patrons had rushed out onto the street, where firecrackers were set off and the words _"bonne année"_ were exchanged all around them. People were spraying champagne, strangers were hugging, and fireworks were exploding somewhere close by, as they could see their sparkly tails rising above the building across the street. Not far away, they could hear the swell of cheers and celebrating from the crowd in front of the Sacré-Cœur.

" _Bon année, bon année!"_ Lily chanted, copying the locals.

James found himself getting emotional as he watched her laughing and dancing about with Annabelle. Sirius was smiling as well, and James thought of how far his best friend had come in a year. How far they had all come. New Year's had always frustrated him, like a river over a waterfall, no way of pausing time, or revisiting where it had been. You were moved forward, even if it was against your will. But this year, it was tempered with so much joy, and so much love he could barely fathom it, and he went into it without a single reservation.

Lily reached out to him, and he stepped toward her, taking her hand. She pulled him into her arms. " _Bon année, mon petit chou!"_

He chuckled quietly, still not believing she could really be there… with him… at that moment.

"Where did you learn to say that?" he asked.

"Sirius taught me!"

"Really? Sirius speaks French? Who would have guessed?"

"Don't forget, he was my _petit chou_ first," said Sirius.

"I'll always be your _petit chou_ , Padfoot," said James. "Annie doesn't mind, do you Annie?"

"It would be futile to fight it," she replied with a grin. "Wait, is a _petit chou_ anything like a cuddly crumpet?"

Lily's eyes widened as she waved her hand in protest. "No comparison whatsoever!"

"None," affirmed James. "Cuddly crumpets are officially banned. Like The Green Fairy."

Sirius and Annabelle's expressions turned sour.

"Too soon?" asked James.

"Definitely too soon," replied Sirius, but his smile returned, suggesting that before long, it would be a memory in which to look back on and laugh.

They stayed outside for a while longer, watching the revellers and feeling grateful. Before they left for the hotel, Lily wrapped her arms around James, and said, "Whatever the New Year holds, we're in this together. No matter what."

He nodded and kissed her, wishing he could pause the moment, or keep it tucked away somewhere he could revisit it in person, over and over again.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Since they had already switched rooms once, they figured it wouldn't matter if they did it again. No one was drunk, and they were no longer children. In less than a year they would be considered adults by wizarding standards, entering the work force and living on their own. Besides, the Potters had more important things to worry about than policing their four charges' sleeping arrangements, like Rosie's well-being for one.

Sometime in the night, Sirius awakened. Disoriented, he sat up, but when Annabelle moved beside him, he remembered where he was, and a feeling of contentment washed over him. Moonlight spilled into the room from the giant window, and his thoughts shifted to Remus. The last full moon had occurred on Christmas, which had been a blow to them all, especially for Remus' three closest friends who couldn't be there for him. But Remus wouldn't risk his father finding out about their Animagus forms, so he did things the way they were always done when he was at home, in the basement, alone and in pain.

Not bothering to get dressed, Sirius got out of bed and went to the window. Above the rooftops he saw the half-moon, peaceful and benign. He thought of Johnny B., probably pining for Matthew, and Matthew, spending the holidays in a far-off country, away from his family and friends. Sure, he had made new friends in Sydney, but it couldn't have been the same as being with the people who love you most in the world. Nothing could beat that, as Sirius had discovered upon leaving the dark place he once called home.

He heard movement from the bed and looked over to Annabelle.

"Can't sleep?" she asked.

"The moon was demanding my attention. Thought it was morning at first."

She got out of bed and slipped on her dressing gown before joining him at the window.

"Speaking of moons," she said, giving his bare bum a pat, "this one is demanding _my_ attention."

"Get used to it, Annie. When we move in together I plan to be starkers all the time."

"I look forward to it. As will the neighbours."

Sirius laughed, but he quickly grew quiet again, his eyes staring off into the sky over Paris.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked.

He chewed his lip for a moment, trying to find the words.

"How I never thought I'd be happy. Life was a tunnel, headed downwards. And it's not anymore."

She turned her back to the window, leaning against the low sill. "What's it like now?"

Stepping in front of her, he undid the tie on her dressing gown.

"It's like Paris. Bright as the City of Lights." He pushed the fabric back and slipped his hands underneath it, his fingers inching along her exposed waist and hips. She wrapped her arms around him, pressing her forehead into his shoulder as he pulled her against him.

"I wish we never had to leave," she whispered as he kissed her neck.

"We'll come back. I promise."

She brought his face to hers, dizzy as he gazed back at her with his grey eyes, illuminated by the moonlight. He was intoxicating. Then her mouth met his and her fingers were sliding through his hair, and he was steering her back to bed. He sat down and pulled her between his legs, trailing kisses over her abdomen.

" _Je t'aime,_ Annabelle," he whispered against her skin.

When he lifted his eyes to hers, she smoothed back his hair. "I love you, too."

With a tug he sent her dressing gown to the floor, and she climbed into bed with him. And as they had the previous New Year, they spent the night together, tangled in each other's arms, a tradition they hoped to continue for many years to come.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The telephone rang, startling them awake the next morning. Annabelle picked it up, but remembered she wasn't supposed to be there, and hurriedly passed the receiver to Sirius. He held it to his ear upside down, and said, "Hello?"

She choked with laughter, and turned it around for him. "Hello?" he said again. "Yes, Sir – Jack, I mean Jack." He chuckled, listening. "Right, em, he might still be in the shower, can I have him call you back?... Right. Bye." He passed the receiver back to Annabelle and she hung up. "Lying to that man just made me the biggest arsehole in all of Paris."

"He asked for James?"

"Yep."

"That's not technically a lie, because he might actually be in the shower."

"You know how to spin things, don't you?"

"Only when absolutely necessary."

They threw on their pyjamas, and Annabelle rang next door. It was eight o'clock and they were leaving later that afternoon, but Rosie and Jack had wanted to walk the Rue Foyatier stairs – if Rosie felt up to it, which meant it probably wouldn't happen - and have one more lunch together before they left Paris.

"Lil? It's me… Jack wants James to call him… all right, bye."

A few minutes later, James was at the door.

"My parents want us to stop by their room before breakfast."

"How come?" asked Sirius.

"I don't have a clue. I was half asleep when I rang them. Or when Lily rang them. Phones are more complicated than they look."

Sirius' face fell. "Well done, Prongs. I told him you were in the shower."

Annabelle's hand flew over her mouth. "Do you think they know we switched?" She didn't think she could handle being scolded by the two nicest people in the universe.

"No," said James. "Impossible. It's probably just about the plan for today."

"Good good," said Annabelle, grabbing her toothbrush from the bathroom and heading for the door. "We'll meet you here when we're ready."

A half hour later, they were stepping off the lift on the second floor, their spirits high on the first day of the year. When they got to his parents' room, James knocked on the door, and Jack opened it. Fatigue strained his normally cheerful face, and he didn't smile when he greeted them. They stepped into a small foyer, and realised the room was actually a luxurious suite.

Jack put an arm round James' shoulders. "Your mum and I want to speak to you, son. All of you really." No one was prepared for the tears that flooded Jack's eyes.

"Dad, are you crying?" James' voice rose, panicked, on the last word.

Jack cleared his throat and ushered them into the sitting room.

"Come Jamie, sit," said Rosie from her seat on the sofa. She patted the spot next to her. "Sirius, come. Girls…" She motioned for them join her.

James and Sirius sat down on either side of her, James' heart seizing in his chest. Whatever this was, he had a feeling it was going to be brutal, and he had no way of bracing himself.

Lily sat in the chair by James' end of the sofa, and Annabelle by Sirius' end. Jack sat in front of James on the edge of the coffee table. The sound of Rosie's laboured breathing filled the room.

She took a slow, rattling breath and squeezed James' hand. "There's no way to say this without hurting you, so I'm just going to say it."

James was suddenly paralysed, as though he'd fallen into an icy lake.

"I've been to several different healers, and they have all told me the same thing. Going through multiple bouts of Black Cat Flu is a trial for anyone's body, but especially for a body as old as mine."

Tears spilled down James' stricken face. Rosie removed his glasses and pulled his head to her shoulder.

"And as it happens, my lungs and my joints will not recover, they will only deteriorate more as the days go by, and soon…" She paused to inhale, trying not to cry. Sirius rested his elbows on his knees and covered his face as Annabelle and Lily waited, their posture rigid, dreading her next words.

"And soon my body will fail me completely and I will pass away."

"How soon?" James cried, his face still buried in her neck. Rosie glanced at Jack, shaking her head in a request for help. _I can't,_ she mouthed to him.

Jack cleared his throat again, his hand falling to James' knee. "Most likely in a few weeks. A month if we're lucky."

James' body jerked slightly as the shock of his father's words gripped him. Annabelle and Lily both wept silently, and Sirius remained quiet, hands still covering his face.

"How long have you known?" asked James as he sat up to face her.

"Since early November."

He pawed at his tears, but more came in their place. "That long? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because there was nothing you could have done."

James stood up, running his hands through his hair and pacing towards the window. There was a small wrought-iron terrace attached to the room, and he was tempted to open the window and step out onto it, just to get out of the room and away from the nightmare clawing his heart to pieces.

"I could have come home," he said. "I could have been there."

"And what good would that have done?" Rosie asked. "You would have missed months of school, and most likely would have to repeat seventh-year. We didn't invest in the best tutors for you to make a mess of your education in your last year."

He wanted to argue, to tell her she was wrong. He could pass his N.E.W.T.s with minimal studying. A few months didn't mean no work, it just meant no classes. His chest felt so tight, like he was suffocating, like nothing that came after her death would matter anymore, and he struggled to find the strength to speak.

"Your mum wanted to wait until we were home to tell you," said Jack, standing up and turning to his son, "but there was a moment last night when I thought we'd be going to the hospital."

"We didn't want any of you to find out that way."

Rosie put an arm around Sirius and rubbed his back, and he took his hands off his face in order to take her hand. But he didn't look her in the eyes, choosing instead to concentrate on the pattern carved in the legs of the coffee table as his facial muscles twitched in the fight to remain composed.

"But this trip?" asked James. "Why did you bring us here?"

"Your mother wanted to see you happy," said Jack. "Give you something special to remember. A last hurrah, of sorts."

A numbness began to grip James as his father pulled him into his arms. All he could think was how it couldn't be real. Yet why should it be so hard to believe? She had been sick off and on for a year, and had been gradually getting weaker. But, she couldn't really be dying. Not his mum, who had always been there, a constant presence even when he was away at school. What would his father do? How would life even work without her?

"Listen," said Rosie. "We still have some time left in Paris, so go get some breakfast while I rest for a bit. We can take the car service somewhere, wherever you like."

It was unimaginable to James, just hopping in the car and carrying on like she hadn't just told him she was dying. He broke away from his father and stalked into the foyer, flinging the door open and heading to the lift. He didn't know why he was suddenly so angry, since nothing was his mother's fault, or his father's for that matter. His mum didn't _want_ to die. Maybe it was because his deepest fear was happening, and how dare it? Hadn't all his worry warded it off? The reality of her words kept crashing over him like a relentless wave, no matter how much he willed it away.

Lily wanted so much to comfort him, and she moved to stand, but she was blindsided herself, and she had no idea how to handle the situation. It was cruel and unfair. Rosie was an older woman, but she might have lived well into her hundreds if not for this.

"Please," Rosie said to her. "Go with him."

"What do I say?" she asked, her eyes flooding with tears.

"You needn't worry about that. Just be there for him."

Lily nodded, kissing Rosie's cheek, and then hurried out of the room. She had missed the lift, so she waited for the next one, tapping on the button and shifting her weight from foot to foot. It was an old lift, and it took forever on a good day, so of course it felt like an eternity before it arrived again. When it did, she rushed inside and hit the button to close the door. Her heart was pounding in her chest and the urge to cry pulled at her throat. _Get it together, for James' sake,_ she admonished herself.

The door to his room, or more accurately, the door to his original room, was shut, and since no one was about, she didn't hesitate to open it with a charm. She found him facing the window, as though wishing for an escape from the pain contained within the walls of the hotel. But there was no escaping this kind of pain. It had to be weathered, like a storm.

"James?"

He lowered his head and she heard him sniffle. Then he turned round and slid to the floor, his face tear-soaked and raw.

"Oh sweetheart," she said, dropping down beside him and pulling his head to her heart. "I'm so sorry."

His arms instinctively hugged her as she smoothed his hair.

"The signs were there," he croaked. "I should have figured it out…"

"None of us could have predicted this. We had no reason to think the worst."

"This isn't happening… tell me this isn't happening."

She wiped her cheek, but holding this crushed boy in her arms, she couldn't stop her tears. Squeezing him tightly, she buried her face in his hair.

"I wish I could, love. More than anything, I wish I could."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

After James and Lily had gone, Rosie gave Sirius a pat on the knee, prompting him to kiss her on the cheek and hug her as gently as he could. Rosie rocked him slightly, whispering something to him as he squeezed his eyes shut. When he stood up to hug Jack, Rosie reached out a hand to Annabelle, and Annabelle rose from her chair and took it.

"The love you girls have for my boys brings me peace," Rosie said, her voice faltering as she gripped Annabelle's hand. "I want you both to know that."

Annabelle nodded, her chin beginning to tremble.

"Now, go have something to eat, even if it's just some bread and tea. Please. I can't send you back to Kaye and Harvey malnourished."

Annabelle tried to smile, but it only made the urge to cry even worse. After giving Rosie a kiss, she turned to Sirius, who was leaning against the doorframe into the foyer, his hands shoved into his pockets. Jack showed them out, and Sirius remained silent. He hadn't said a word since before they received the news.

The lift wasn't arriving fast enough, and he pounded on the button so hard he injured his hand.

" _Fuck_ ," he said, turning round as he squeezed his fist in his other hand.

Annabelle took his sore hand in hers. "Sirius?"

His eyes remained trained on the carpet between their feet, and she kissed his hand where it had turned red. The lift door squeaked open but neither of them moved. When it closed again, he met her eyes. His mouth opened to speak, but instead of words, he broke down in tears.

"I know," she said as she embraced him. "I know."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

No one had much of an appetite, but Lily and Annabelle went to the continental breakfast to pick up some baguettes and tea for Jack and Rosie, followed by a second trip for James and Sirius. Sirius drank only the tea, but James didn't touch either.

"Jack says to be ready to check out in an hour," mentioned Annabelle.

James was lying on his unused bed, eyes closed and head in Lily's lap. "Okay," he murmured, an occasional tear trailing down his cheek.

Sirius sat on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands again, a curtain of black hair hiding his face from view. Annabelle gently stroked his back, still in shock over the news. Was it only the night before when the four of them were elated and so full of hope? It already felt like a memory from another time. The whole weekend prior to the news seemed separate, distant, as Paris had gone from glorious to devastating with a few dreadful words.

Lily smoothed James' hair, frowning at the mention of James' father. "He wanted so much to return with her to the stairs where he proposed," she said, her voice catching. She closed her eyes and fought to keep herself together.

"And he still can," said Sirius, looking up.

"But, how?"

"We can help her," he said, his eyes teary. "Right, Prongs? We can carry her to the spot where he proposed. Take turns if we have to. She can't weigh more than a feather."

James wiped his face on his shirt cuffs. "We can, but I doubt she'll let us."

"We'll have to use our powers of persuasion, then," said Sirius.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Rosie slept most of the morning, and no one felt up to going out to lunch, so Sirius and Annabelle went out to buy some sandwiches for everyone from a shop a few blocks away, while James and Lily stayed in the suite with Jack, keeping him company.

"I'm sorry you had to find out this way," said Jack. "We didn't want to worry you."

James was slumped in a chair, biting his nails. The heaviness of his sorrow had weakened him and words seemed pointless, but he summoned the strength anyway.

"I'm not going back to school until…"

He glanced at Lily, who was sitting at the end of the sofa, and she sent him a reassuring look.

"Jamie-" his father began.

"Dad, I know you don't expect me to be at school when my mother… when my mother is-"

"How will you keep up with your assignments? Your internship?"

"Internships aren't for a few weeks, not that it matters. She means more to me than a stupid internship."

"I can bring him his assignments," offered Lily. "Everyday. Dumbledore will understand."

Jack paced in front of the hearth, his brow creased. "Yes," he said absently, "I reckon he will."

James could see he wasn't the only one paralysed under the weight of the circumstances. His father seemed lost already, and his mother hadn't even died yet.

"I'm going to check on her," said James, hopping out of his chair. He went to the bedroom door and slowly pushed it open. He could hear her laboured breathing as he entered the room, and for the first time he was glad for the sound, because it meant she hadn't left him yet. Easing himself into a chair near the bed, he continued biting his nails, wishing he would wake up and find this had all been a bad dream.

Five minutes later, Lily stepped inside. She leaned down and whispered, "Annie and Sirius are back. Your dad wants you to eat something."

His mouth trembled in sadness as he stared at his mother. "I can't."

"You need to eat, James. If not for yourself, then for your mum and dad, yeah?"

He closed his eyes, then nodded. Lily took him by the hand and led him out of the room, shutting the door softly behind them.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

An hour later, after luggage was shrunk and room keys were returned, they headed outside to the cars.

"We have time for one last stop?" asked Sirius, as Jack helped Rosie into the car.

"What did you have in mind?" said Jack.

"We thought you still might like to visit the stairs," Lily replied, "where you got engaged."

"Oh, darlings," said Rosie, "you are all so sweet, but no. I can't."

"You don't have to climb them," said Sirius. "We can just have a look."

"Well, I suppose we could," she said, turning to Jack. "Do we have time?"

He looked at her for moment before answering, "I believe we do."

The drive to the stairs took no time at all, and soon they were stepping out of the cars into the brisk January day. The sky was a mottled grey, and snow was predicted for later, but they would be well on their way to King's Cross Station by the time it arrived. James and Sirius each took one of Rosie's arms and walked with her to the base of the stairs. Her nap seemed to have helped; she was walking slowly but not terribly so, and when they reached the first step, she gazed up at the iconic staircase, tears filling her eyes.

"Where exactly did Jack propose?" asked Annabelle.

"Five flights up," answered Jack without a moment's hesitation.

"Any reason why you chose that spot?" asked Lily.

"It was the spot we were on when I finally got the nerve to ask her."

Sirius turned to James. "I think we can manage five flights, ay James?"

"Like a walk in the park. Let's go Mum. Put your arms round my neck."

"Oh, Jamie, no darling. What will people think?"

"That you're a Queen," said Annabelle, "being transported in the manner in which you deserve."

"By two dashing Gryffindors," added Lily.

"I have always loved dashing Gryffindors," said Rosie, smiling at Jack.

"Come along then," said Sirius, taking the first step.

Rosie gave a frail nod, and allowed her son to lift her into his arms. After three flights, James set her down, and Sirius picked her right back up again, carrying her the last two flights. Lily's heart ached at the sight of these two young men, carrying this frail woman they both loved so much. She was glad she and Annabelle were behind them, because she couldn't stop crying. Annabelle took her hand, and when Lily looked at her, she saw that she wasn't alone.

On the fifth landing, Sirius gently set Rosie down, and the boys stepped back, joining the girls along the railing as Jack stepped forward. He took her hand, and with a bit of effort, got down on one knee if front of her.

Lily wrapped her arms around James' waist as they looked on. His arm moved to her shoulders, and she could feel from his rigid stance how hard he was trying to keep his composure. Next to her, Annabelle and Sirius held hands, their faces solemn as Jack told Rosie how grateful he was that she had chosen to spend her life with him, and how he would do it all over again, and relive every joy and every heartache, because it all added up to something more beautiful than he had known was possible.

When he finished, there was not a dry eye on the landing, including those of the tourists who had stopped to watch. Rosie wiped under her eyes with the back of her index finger, and smiled down at him.

"Marrying you was the best decision I ever made," she said. "And this life with you has been a most wonderful adventure."

When Jack moved to stand, James and Sirius were at his sides instantly to help him up. Some of the onlookers applauded, not knowing that this romantic display was actually a goodbye of sorts. Rosie opened her arms and embraced her husband, then motioned for James, Sirius, Lily and Annabelle to join them. And they stood in the cold, arms tight around each other, their heavy hearts spilling over with love.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

She died ten days later, in the arms of her husband and son, her second son close by, holding her hand.

 


	13. Mummy's Boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure you've all heard of Saturday Night Fever with John Travolta, but if not, you can YouTube the opening scene. Try not to laugh.  
> Please leave a comment!

At Jack's urging, James and Sirius returned to Hogwarts three days after Rosie's funeral. "She wouldn't want you moping about here, not when you have N.E.W.T.s to prepare for," he told them, and so they left him with the promise to visit at the weekend. Gryffindor tower hadn't felt quite the same in the absence of its two kings. To Lily, it felt like a puzzle with pieces missing, and when they stepped into the common room that afternoon, the puzzle was complete again. But neither boy was himself, both still grieving in their quiet ways. It was more evident with James, mainly because he didn't share Sirius' penchant for masking his inner struggles, and Lily sensed his despair as it clung to him daily.

Despite being surrounded by friends, there was something so isolating about grief, Lily thought, and she knew that however she was feeling, James was dealing with it tenfold. During the funeral service, he had been despondent, barely able to hold his head up. Occasionally his brows would knit together as tears forced their way out, but then his eyes would close and his jaw would tighten as he fought his anguish. She held his hand the entire time, trying to be strong, but knowing her own parents were a few rows behind her made it impossible not to feel the weight of their mortality as well.

So much had changed since New Year's Eve. Rosie was alive, and now she wasn't, all in the span of a fortnight. Before she passed, Lily and Annabelle had visited every day after classes along with Remus and Peter, spending a couple hours in the evening there, hoping to provide some comfort. Alice had come with them a few times, as well as Johnny B. and Caradoc. They knew she didn't have long, but they still weren't prepared for the news when they stepped out of the hearth and into the Potters' living room on that bleak Tuesday afternoon.

Now, James was having trouble focusing on his studies, his thoughts with his absent mother, and his grieving father, alone in that massive house. He talked less, ate less, and more often than not, he retreated to his room whenever he could, the effort it took to carry on as usual having exhausted him by sundown. He often preferred to be alone, and when he wasn't, he was detached from his friends, struggling to cope. Death was worse for the living, Lily was sure of it.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The first day of internships arrived a week after the boys' return, and on a grey Friday afternoon, when classes were over for the day, James trudged off to St. Mungo's while Lily headed to Diagon Alley to learn how to make ice cream. Annabelle would be at the Ministry along with Alice and Peter, Johnny B. at his mum's salon, Caradoc at the bakery along with Phyllis Meadowes (who loved baking, despite her lack of talent,) Remus at the Prophet, and Sirius, who had decided to participate after all, at the Department of Magical Games and Sport, which was also at the Ministry.

Several other seventh-years were assigned to the Ministry as well. Jacoby Ollivander would be in the same department as Sirius, and Septima Scroggie would be in Peter's department, The Office of Misinformation. A handful of others, including Benjy Fenwick, joined Alice in the Auror department, which had been recruiting heavily in response to Voldemort - interns would free more of the Aurors' time by helping with reports and other clerical duties. Perhaps the biggest shock was finding out that Slytherin Esmeralda Roux would be interning with Annabelle.

"A strange choice for her," Alice had whispered to Annabelle and Sirius.

"Don't trust her," Sirius advised.

He needn't have warned her, because Annabelle knew better than to trust the flirty Slytherin, known for her friendship with Elsinore Collins, Delilah Burke, and Teagan Travers. She was not the obvious candidate for a department that specialised in humanitarian work. Annabelle had never had a personal issue with the girl, but she had always wondered if Esmeralda knew what Elsinore was plotting the previous autumn along with Malachi Malfoy and Severus Snape. Clearly, Sirius thought she had.

There was an orientation, in which a woman called Menadarva Penmayne sent them through the process of getting security clearance and identification tags. When they reconvened in the Atrium, she gave them a tour of the building, a run-down of evacuation procedures, and a handbook of Ministry policies. Sirius could barely tolerate the tedium of it all, and couldn't wait to get back to the castle. He hoped James was faring better at St. Mungo's, and Remus at the Daily Prophet, although he imagined they had their own dull orientations to muddle through.

Finally, they were sent to their departments with a plan to meet by the fountain when they were released.

"Good luck," said Alice, as they entered the lift and gripped the golden ropes, ready for what they heard from Frank was a wild ride.

When the lift jolted to a stop, Sirius and Jacoby exited first, Sirius giving Annabelle's hand a squeeze before stepping into the corridor. Jacoby sent Esmeralda a wink, and she winked back. It appeared there might be some truth to the rumours swirling about Hogwarts that the two housemates were dating.

The first thing Sirius noticed were the Quidditch posters plastering the walls, and he could almost hear his mother's screeching, when once, he dared to put a Pride of Portree poster up in his bedroom. "I won't have you making a mess of this house!" she had told him, and from then on, he and Regulus were not allowed to affix anything to their walls unless it was actual artwork she had approved.

The summer before sixth year, he purposely sent her into a rage when he plastered his walls with pictures, including a poster he'd got from a muggle magazine of girls in bikinis, and a Gryffindor pennant to replace the Slytherin one his father had hung for him as a child. It had been an impulsive act, committed in retaliation for his mother calling The Potters "filth-loving poseurs" the day before he left to visit them. He had regretted his decision as soon as he heard his father barrelling up the stairs to punish him, but he had used a permanent sticking charm on the items, and there was no removing them. After that, the divide between him and his parents grew exponentially larger. He had thought for sure his parents would have used their connections to prevent him from working at the Ministry in any capacity, but maybe their influence didn't stretch to this particular department.

"Welcome to the fun-zone lads," said a young man in expensive, yet dishevelled robes. "Here for the internship, are we?" He walked as he spoke, and Sirius and Jacoby trailed along behind him. "I'm Casper Calenick, and I'll be your supervisor, but the man in charge is called Hamish MacFarlan, famed Quidditch Beater in case you didn't know. Come, let me introduce you."

Of course Sirius and Jacoby knew who MacFarlan was. From 1957-1968 he was the Captain and Beater for the Montrose Magpies, and set the record for most hits in a game in 1961 where he knocked the Seeker for the Tutshill Tornadoes off his broom 38 times. It was the main reason Sirius had applied to the department. If he had to have someone ordering him about, it might as well be a legend like MacFarlan.

The small office was divided into cubicles, interoffice memos whizzing about, the windows charmed to offer a view of central London. More Quidditch posters lined the walls, and near a corridor, there was life-sized cut-out of MacFarlan, swinging a beater's bat. Casper warned them not to let it smack them in the head when passing. Looking round the office, Sirius wondered if they had arrived during a break, since most of the employees were kicked back in their chairs, feet up on their desks, chatting about sport. Some were gathered round a wireless, listening to the Puddlemere v Lancashire match, and breaking out in intermittent cheers. Others were drinking coffee and playing games of table Quidditch.

"Looks like we chose the right internship," whispered Jacoby as they followed Casper through the office.

Sirius took in his surroundings, and couldn't have been more pleased. "It would appear so."

Although he hadn't left himself with much choice. It was the only internship to which he'd applied.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour was the oldest maker of magical ice cream in the wizarding world. Known throughout Britain and Continental Europe for its silky smooth texture and wide selection of flavours, it was made abundantly clear during Lily's orientation that they were the best. After a straight half hour of bragging about their product from the Assistant Production Manager, a woman called Viviette Spencer, Lily was relieved when she was escorted to the laboratory in the back of the shop. She had anticipated a vibrant room, full of sunlight and fun, but what she got was a cross between the potions lab and the undercroft – a dingy, sprawling cellar, scattered with charmed equipment, and shelf upon shelf of ingredients lining the stone walls. People in white robes hovered over the tables, working very hard at what, Lily didn't know, but she was sort of disappointed already. She was led to a small table in the corner where a manual the size of a Muggle phone directory was placed in front of her. _Fortescue's Original Recipes_ was printed on the front.

"Take some time to peruse the 'big book' as we call it. It will familiarise you with how we do things round here."

"Yes, ma'am."

Madam Spencer left her and Lily opened the book. No one even looked at her, and she hadn't been introduced, so she felt silly sitting there, like an intruder. She wondered if this was the way most interns felt on their first day, or if it was unique to the Florean Fortescue's experience. Internships were a rare occurrence for this particular establishment, so maybe it would take some time before they figured how to utilise her skills while also teaching her a few things. As she cracked open the book, she told herself to be patient, as it was only the first day.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

A floor below Sirius and Jacoby, Annabelle and Esmeralda stepped out of the lift, acknowledging each other with a moment of awkward eye contact, but nothing more. Annabelle wasn't going to pretend she had any interest in being her friend, and apparently, neither was Esmeralda.

They followed the signs to the department, and after passing through a set of glass double doors, they stopped and scanned the open room filled with cubicles, the expansive windows charmed to look like a bright summer day in the countryside. Papers zoomed through the air, folders shot up from filing cabinets, and workers hustled madly about. It was bedlam. No one even noticed them standing there, until a young wizard whose security tag read Sturgis Podmore stopped in front of them.

"Interns?"

"Ye-"

"Thought so. Mar _leeene!_ Your minions are here!"

At the far right side of the room, a frazzled-looking woman poked her head out from inside an enclosed office.

"O'Neill and Roux?" she asked. The girls nodded, and she waved them over.

The office was a mess; stacks of paper everywhere, wall shelves sagging under the weight of government policy manuals, the inbox on her desk receiving memo after memo. No wonder McGonagall had warned Annabelle she would be "easing the burden." The burden was massive.

"Marlene McKinnon, MSW. Pleased to meet you."

The girls introduced themselves, and Marlene asked Annabelle, "Did you see your grandfather in the other room?" Annabelle hesitated, unsure what she was insinuating. "His portrait," Marlene clarified. "You might have missed it since it's over the door where you entered. He is a daily reminder of our mission here, and of the standard we must try to achieve."

"Oh," said Annabelle, letting out a breath. "Right." She smiled, feeling both exhilarated and intimidated by the knowledge that she had entered her grandfather's world – the world she hadn't known existed until after he died.

"I'm actually the head of the Division of Family Affairs, but he was the Chief Officer when I started here. A true reformer and the best boss in the world. Honestly."

She appeared to be around thirty-something, her round face brightening with a smile at the end of every frantic sentence. Her blonde hair was twisted on top her head, held in place with a quill, and her patchwork robes with floral embroidery around the collar screamed hippie. Outdated fashion sense aside, she seemed kind and welcoming, as well as genuinely pleased to have some assistance.

"You knew him?" Annabelle asked.

"Of course I did. We'll have to chat about him when we get a minute. But for now, I'm going to skip all the formalities and orientations. I need you to have seat, and go through my inbox. Form three separate stacks, one for needs assessments, which look like this," she said, digging through a mess of papers on her desk and holding up a form, "child welfare inquiries, which look like this," she held up another form, "and interdepartmental memos. They look like this." She held up a third piece of parchment, then smacked it back down on her desk. "Anything else, put in a miscellaneous stack for now."

"Yes, ma'am," said Esmeralda.

"Oh, please, call me Marlene." She let out a sharp laugh. "Am I really old enough to be a ma'am? I'll be back in a mo, all right?"

Before they could answer, she nipped out of the office, leaving the door open behind her. Annabelle and Esmeralda split the pile in two and began sorting. When they finished, they waited patiently, not familiar enough with their surroundings to direct themselves to other tasks, or with each other to carry on a conversation. Annabelle turned her attention to a photograph on Marlene's desk of two blond-haired children, a boy and girl of about nine or ten years old. They were dancing about with ice lollies in their hands, flashing their blue and orange tongues.

Occasionally another flurry of forms would appear from a slot in the wall, and they would separate them into the stacks. Workers would pop their heads into the office as news spread that Darien O'Neill's granddaughter was there, sending Annabelle and Esmeralda warm greetings, their eyes always lingering on Annabelle a bit too long.

Annabelle didn't mind the attention, but she wasn't comfortable sitting in silence with a school mate she didn't trust. She was startled when Esmeralda spoke.

"I had feeling you would be here," she said. "You'd think Circe had arrived the way they all want to have a look at you."

Annabelle had no response. What was she supposed to say to that? She shrugged and looked down at the bright teal flooring.

"Listen," Esmeralda continued, "I know you think I shouldn't be here. 'What's a self-serving Slytherin doing in the epicentre of humanitarianism in the wizarding world?' Am I right?"

"I didn't say that."

"You were thinking it, though. But just so you know, I'm sort of on the outs with some of my mates lately. Just because I'm a Slytherin doesn't mean I like how Voldemort has my house divided. Even my roommates are against each other now. He ruined all the fun we used to have together."

"You don't support Voldemort because he ruined your _fun_?"

"Right, I guess I should also say that he's an arsehole and he's a maniac, but I'm not keen on reading newspapers, so I only know what I hear from my mates. Some of them say he's misunderstood, and that he has the secret to immortality, which you have to admit sounds rather amazing."

In light of losing Rosie, as well her grandparents and Sirius' uncle, she couldn't deny that doing away with death sounded enticing, but immortality could never work, because who in their right mind would want Voldemort and his Death Eaters around forever? It really would be the end of civilization.

"Maybe you should pick up a newspaper more often," suggested Annabelle. "Then you'd see that he's a mass murderer, and that he only wants his deranged supporters to live forever, while everyone else is to be tortured and killed. Or do you think I _misunderstood_?"

"Oh, Right. You're going to preach to me constantly, aren't you. Darien O'Neill's granddaughter, carrying the torch. My friends warned me this internship was a mistake."

"You're sitting here, in the Department of Social Welfare and Justice, saying you think Voldemort might be misunderstood. What do you want me to say?"

"Look, that's why I'm here. I want another perspective, all right? Sorry philanthropy doesn't run in my cold, snake blood like it does in your supremely _perfect_ lion-hearted blood, but at least I'm trying. Can't you give me a break?"

"Fine. I don't actually care why you're here."

Papers fluttered on Marlene's desk, and the voices of an office full of hard-working witches and wizards drifted through the open door. Annabelle wished Marlene would return and direct them to separate tasks before Esmeralda starting talking again. But she was to have no such luck.

"I know you hate me because of Elsinore."

"I don't know you well enough to hate you."

"Well, I know you don't _care,_ but I wasn't involved in that stunt she pulled. She was under orders from her parents to keep it quiet. When I found out, I was shocked, as were most of my friends. I haven't heard from her since last spring."

"Maybe we could change the subject?" asked Annabelle. "This is really uncomfortable."

"Sure. Fine."

Esmeralda began twirling one of her dark brown curls round her finger, the nail of which was painted blood-red. Maybe Jacoby was the one who got her interested in the politics surrounding the Voldemort situation, and led her to question what her barmy housemates were feeding her, because despite his pureblood status, his family weren't known to be bigots. And he always seemed a cut above his teammates.

Whatever the case, their relief when Marlene returned was palpable.

"Come along, girls. Time to introduce you to everyone."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

James watched closely as the Healer to whom he was assigned examined the elbow of an injured amateur-league Quidditch player. Shadowing Gentian Van Arsdall for the last hour had proved enlightening, and had allowed him to focus his attention on something other than the persistent ache in his heart. Also, he was pleased to discover that despite his unfortunate name, Van Arsdall was actually a decent chap. He reminded James of Professor MacMillan, maybe because the two men were close in age and had the same easy-going attitude.

"Looks like a textbook case of Flexor Tendinitis," Van Arsdall said. "Common among Chasers. Falls into the category of 'Overuse Injuries.' Chasers use their arms to throw at high speeds, and considerable force is concentrated over the inner elbow during throwing. But to be sure there's nothing else going on, no bone chips or torn tendons, we'll use the Body Transparency Charm."

Van Arsdall hovered his wand over the man's inner elbow, and chanted, _"_ _Ego intus est vestrum_ _,_ _cubiti umerus_ _."_

James' eyes widened as the man's skin became see-through, exposing all the inner workings of his elbow joint.

"By ending the incantation with the exact location you need to examine, the charm allows us to hone in on any part of the body, from the largest joints to the tiniest blood vessels. This is used in all healing fields, of course, not just Quidditch Medicine. But you can see how useful it is."

"Wow. That's incredible."

"From my observation, there is nothing wrong that an anti-inflammatory potion won't cure." He waved his wand over the spot again and said, " _Obscuro_ ," causing the man's skin to reappear.

They tended to a few more patients, and VanArsdall even allowed James to cast the Body Transparency Charm on a patient with a bruised spleen. James found himself growing excited about Quidditch Medicine. All the mystery surrounding what healers actually did was slowly being unraveled, and after showing James back to the administrative offices where the Employee Floo Connection was located, Van Arsdall released him for the day.

James' first thought was, _Wait 'til I tell Mum about this_.

He stopped in his tracks, the Floo Powder he had grabbed falling through his fingers. His excitement had been snatched from him in an instant, as the reality of never being able to tell his mother anything ever again hit him like a punch in the throat. Hurt swelled inside of him, and he wished he could use the Body Transparency Charm to locate the source, so he wouldn't have to endure the all-consuming pain any longer. But it didn't work that way, and he knew it.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"SCORE!" Hamish MacFarlan shouted, having sent a parchment ball through a mini-goal post. What had started off as a quick match of table Quidditch had turned into an office-wide tournament. Of course it didn't have the same thrill as flying on brooms hundreds of feet in the air, but it was a decent way to spend a Friday afternoon, Sirius thought. With MacFarlan's goal, his team, which included Sirius and Jacoby, was victorious.

"Haven't lost my touch, lads," he announced, then wagged his brows at his secretary, Miss Jorkins, who had been the scorekeeper for the match. "Best get yourselves back to Hogwarts before I convince you to quit school and work for me full time."

Jacoby laughed, and so did Sirius, even though MacFarlan's remark didn't sound entirely crazy to him. The boys had MacFarlan sign their intern log, and then made their way back to the lifts, commenting on the Quidditch posters along the way.

"We definitely scored the best internship in existence," said Jacoby.

Sirius nodded in agreement. "No doubt about it."

The boys were not well-acquainted, mainly because they were in rival houses, but Jacoby had always been a good sport, maybe the only good sport on the Slytherin house team. The apprehension Sirius had felt when he first learnt Jacoby would be interning with him had faded, and he was rather glad he wasn't the only student in the office. It took some of the pressure off, not that it appeared to be a high-pressure sort of job. The only work they were asked to do that afternoon was edit a few flyers, proofread an update to Quidditch regulations, and post some memos. The rest of the afternoon was spent mucking about with the staff.

Upon arriving in the atrium of the Ministry, they both leaned against the base of the fountain to wait for their housemates. Jacoby looked at up the fountain, which depicted a wizard and a witch being gazed at adoringly by a centaur, a goblin, and a house-elf.

"Merlin, look at that monstrosity," he said. "Like centaurs, goblins, and house-elves have nothing better to do than admire us all day."

Sirius hadn't paid much attention to the statue earlier, but now he studied it up close. "Yeah, it's a bit of an embarrassment, isn't it."

"No wonder other creatures think were conceited."

Alice and Peter arrived then, accompanied by the sound of Peter's misery.

"Godric fucking Gryffindor that was boring. If I have to hear another lecture about the consequences of major magical mishaps again, I'm going to _cause_ a major magical mishap."

Sirius barely suppressed a snort. "What did you expect? You just started."

"I know, but I was hoping for a bit more _action_."

"Give it time," said Alice. "They're not going to drag you out on assignments the first day."

"How was the Auror department?" Sirius asked Alice.

"It was mostly talk about the Auror programme," she replied, "like what kind of training is involved, what N.E.W.T.s are required - stuff I already knew. Then we talked to some of the Aurors that were available. Most were out on missions. But I helped write a report on a vault break-in at Gringotts."

"A break-in?" Peter said. "Now I wish I'd applied for your internship. Sounds like loads more fun than mine."

After another few minutes of waiting, Alice asked, "What is keeping Annabelle?"

"Here she comes," said Sirius, a smile forming on his face.

She was walking with Esmeralda, well, not _with_ her exactly, but a step or two ahead of her. Neither girl was smiling.

"So? Was it like you imagined?" Sirius asked as she joined them by the fountain.

"Hmm, I don't know really. I never knew quite what to imagine. It was extremely busy, and I have several paper cuts that need healing, but everyone, or _almost_ everyone," she corrected herself, glancing at Esmeralda, who was having her own private conversation with Jacoby, "was so inspiring and devoted to their work."

Sirius eyes narrowed. "She was rude to you, yeah?"

Annabelle gave a half-hearted shrug and bowed her head. "She wasn't exactly rude, per se. But…" She didn't want to tell him how Esmeralda's mates had tried to convince her that Voldemort was misunderstood, because Sirius might try to school her right then and there. Leaning in, she whispered to him, "She's a bit ignorant about you-know-who."

Sirius glared at the Slytherin out of the corner of his eye. "Shocking, considering her mates' families probably all work for him. She should be an expert on what's been happening."

"Well, she's not. I got the impression she wasn't pretending, either."

"Can we go?" whined Peter. "Lily said she would see about getting me some free ice cream."

They started toward the main fireplace, not wanting to keep their friends waiting for them in Diagon Alley. They had agreed to meet at Florean Fortescue's before going back to Hogwarts together, and no one wanted to keep Peter from his free ice cream.

"Catch you later, Ollivander," said Sirius.

"Later, Black."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Dinner conversation consisted mostly of internships, and Peter complaining how dull his was by comparison. As usual, James barely spoke, giving short replies when spoken to, and eating very little. Lily couldn't speak of her own boring internship because she didn't want to sound like Peter, complaining about something so minor in the grand scheme of things, when James was trying to figure out how to manage his life without his mother. How desperately she wanted him to unload all his sorrows and fears onto her, but she didn't want him to feel pressured to talk when he wasn't feeling up to it, so she stayed close by, waiting for a sign that he needed her.

By the following Thursday, her concern for him had grown. She didn't expect him to be his usual self, but his avoidance of talking about his loss had surprised her. He was usually so open with her, often to the point of bluntness, and now he was isolating himself. Even Sirius was having a hard time getting through to him, attempting to talk about the good times with Rosie, but James wasn't having it. "I need to revise," or "I need to catch up on reading," were always his excuses, despite having stayed caught up on school work throughout the ordeal at his mother's insistence. He was just so sad, and Lily hurt for him.

On the way back to the common room after dinner, she asked Annabelle, "Is it normal for him to be so withdrawn?"

"What's normal?" replied Annabelle. "Everyone handles grief differently I reckon."

"I just feel like I should be doing more for him, but at the same time, what more can I do without upsetting him?"

"Hmm, I don't know Lil. I mean, it can't be good for him being cooped up in his room all the time, when before he was always eager to be doing something and having fun. Maybe he needs a reminder that life goes on."

"What kind of reminder? You mean sneaking out?"

"You could always suggest it. Even it's just to the kitchens for a midnight snack."

"He was always trying to get me to go to London with him," Lily said sadly. "Just on a whim. I always said no."

"It's worth a try. But no pubs. Alcohol will only makes things worse."

"Definitely no pubs. And remember, we have internships tomorrow, so we can't stay out too late."

Annabelle brightened. "We could go see that film! The one we saw advertised in the newspaper over Christmas?"

Lily tried to recall. "Which one?"

"You know the one with that American actor. He was wearing a white suit in the picture."

"Oh, right! What was it called? Saturday Night?"

"Yes, Saturday Night… No, Saturday Night _something_. I can't remember, but he might get a kick out of it. We could say it's for your birthday!"

Lily's birthday was in four days, and she was most definitely not in the mood to celebrate it this year. But if it would give James even a moment's distraction from his despair, she would go along with it.

"All right, let's see what he thinks."

Since James refused to leave his room save for classes, meals, and head boy duties, and his roommates refused to leave him alone for long, the girls had grown accustomed to entering the boys' dormitory. It was crazy to think how timid they had been about committing such an infraction before, and how a year and a half later they were coming and going as they pleased. Of course, they still used the invisibility cloak so they wouldn't get caught, but they were quite proud of their nerve.

Sirius was thrilled with the development, as was Remus who had recently begun smuggling Claire in under James' cloak. Peter had stopped complaining about it ages ago, since Alice, Johnny B. and Caradoc were often there as well, rendering it a co-ed experience and not solely a couples' thing. If James had the strength to be thrilled, he would have been, but at the moment, excitement over anything was an impossibility for him.

That evening, Lily and Annabelle were on their own with James and Sirius. Alice and Remus were finishing a Potions assignment in the library, and Peter was in the common room, facing off against Septima Scroggie in chess, which had become a regular occurrence in the last week. Jokes about the two of them abounded among Peter's mates, but Peter said he had no interest in Septima other than kicking her arse in chess.

James was sprawled out on his bed, a book propped open on his chest. Lily sat down beside him, her back against his headboard and her own book in hand. Annabelle was at the foot of Sirius' bed, facing him, her Potions book open while he worked on the Daily Prophet crossword puzzle. The two girls traded looks and Lily cleared her throat, sitting up straighter.

"Is anyone else feeling a bit restless?" she asked.

"Every day of my life," droned Sirius, absorbed in the crossword.

"Maybe we should get out of here for a few hours."

Sirius looked up. "Where do you want to go?"

"Anywhere you like," she replied. "There's a popular film out now. Have you ever been to the cinema?"

"Of course we have," he said, then added, "Once."

"Have you?" asked Annabelle, surprised by his answer. "What did you see?"

"Monty Python and the Holy Grail. It was a few years ago."

"Did you know who Monty Python was?"

"No. Thought it was about a python called Monty, actually. We asked the bloke behind the counter what was good and he recommended it. He looked at me like I was mad when I asked what we were supposed to do with the ticket."

Lily and Annabelle laughed, and Sirius grinned self-consciously. But James remained still, his eyes trained on his book.

"I didn't expect the screen to be so big," Sirius went on. "And Prongs was envious of the people with popcorn. Didn't have enough muggle money to buy any – it's quite expensive. But the film was bloody hilarious."

Lily looked down at James. "Did you like the film?"

He forced a smile. "Yeah, it was brilliant. Best film I ever saw."

" _Only_ film you ever saw," said Sirius.

"No, we saw that film at Remus' house once, on the telly. What was it called?"

"Oh right, The Railway Children or something."

"No that's it," confirmed James. "The Railway Children. I fell asleep about halfway through."

"We all did."

"Well, this film is nothing like The Railway Children," said Annabelle. "It's 18-rated!"

"What's it about?" asked James, not sounding at all interested.

"I dunno. A lad in a white suit going to a disco?"

"I think I'll pass," he said, turning back to his book.

Lily sent Annabelle a resigned look, and Annabelle decided against using Lily's birthday to guilt-trip him. He was suffering enough. _Sorry_ , she mouthed to Lily, her face falling in resignation.

"Might be a laugh," said Sirius, trying to encourage James. "Merlin knows we need one."

Lily smiled hopefully, but James was quick to reply. "What I need is to finish this chapter. My internship isn't just arsing about with table-Quidditch, in case you forgot."

Sirius rolled his eyes, but said nothing in his own defence, possibly because there was nothing to say. Sirius' internship was a lark, and James' internship was intellectually demanding. There was no comparison.

"Right, then," Sirius said, getting up and rummaging through James' trunk for the Map. "Suit yourself. We'll bring you back some popcorn."

Knowing what the answer would be, Annabelle still asked, "You coming, Lil?"

"Em… no, I don't think so. Now that I think about it, it's probably unwise for the head girl to take unnecessary chances. It would only be more to deal with…"

James looked up at her. "Are you not going because of me?"

"Well I don't want to leave you here alone, but no. I'm not going because it's not worth the risk of getting caught. Imagine if a faculty member needed us for something and no one could find us?"

"We lowly commoners have nothing to worry about," said Sirius, throwing on his coat. "If we get caught, they'll probably just give us detention until June. No big deal."

"Don't stay out too late," said Lily.

"And don't do anything stupid," added James.

"Something _stupid_? Annabelle and myself? You must be joking."

"Ha. I wish I was."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Sirius couldn't have been more impressed that Annabelle had encouraged him to sneak out. Not that he didn't adore the nervous, straight-laced girl she had been when he first fell for her, but he was glad to see her taking more chances and shedding some of her old fears. He wished James and Lily had come along, but he knew how much his friend was struggling with the loss of his mum. Sirius could barely wrap his brain around it either, how she wouldn't be there the next time he and James went home, and how Jack no longer had his lifelong companion. Getting out of the sadness, if only for a few hours, seemed like an invigorating prospect, but even now as they stood in the ticket queue in Leicester Square, gloom began to nudge at him.

Once they had their tickets, they made the queue for the snack bar, and then, carrying their Pepsis and their bucket of popcorn, they gave their tickets to the lad collecting them and entered the packed cinema. With little choice of seats, they picked two by the wall in the back row.

"Sure you don't want to sit closer?" she asked.

"We're better off here. This way we don't disturb anyone if we want to leave halfway through."

"Oh, is that why?"

"Course, Annie," he laughed. "Why else would I want to sit in the back of a dark cinema with my girlfriend?"

She giggled as she removed her coat, draping it over her seat back. Sirius took a fistful of popcorn, but paused as soon as the first piece touched his tongue.

"What?" asked Annabelle. "Is something wrong with it?"

He forced himself to consume the few pieces already in his mouth.

"No, it's… delicious."

She took a piece and popped it into her mouth. "Tastes fine to me. It's not going to taste like you're used to, but it's not bad, is it?"

"I'm just teasing. It's actually rather nice." He shoved some more into his mouth, chewing slowly, and Annabelle couldn't tell if he was taking the piss or not.

"Really… you like it?"

"Sure. It's not like Dotty's, but it's all right."

The Potter's house elf could make anything taste gourmet, but Annabelle had always loved muggle cinema popcorn.

"Don't compare it Dotty's. Nothing could live up to that standard. Even the Hogwarts' house elves haven't achieved that level of culinary success."

"Rosie would deny it," said Sirius, "but she could cook as well. I found that out the first time I went home with James. Easter of first year."

"Your parents let you stay the entire break?"

"No, it was only for an overnight, although I'm quite sure they didn't miss me."

"I'll bet Rosie adored you straightaway, didn't she?"

"Maybe. All I know is that I kept waiting for her to scream at James and order me home. I thought she was putting on some sinister nice-act, and that she would lash out when we least expected it, and didn't know how James could be so calm. But she never did."

"Merlin, Sirius. How awful for you."

"When Jack came home from work, I remember holding my breath as he approached James and put a hand on his head. But all he did was ruffle his hair. Then Rosie asked what my favourite pudding was."

"Treacle pudding with custard," said Annabelle.

"Yes, and she made it for pudding that night. Not Dotty, but Rosie herself. No one at home ever asked what I liked, and my mother would sooner snog Dumbledore than do something a house-elf could do. I was bit jealous of James for a while after that. Not only because of the pudding, but because his parents actually liked him. They wanted him there, and they enjoyed talking to him. Rosie even kissed him goodbye at King's Cross, and he got embarrassed, but then she did the same to me, and I had no idea why. But from then on, I wished she was my mum."

"She wished you were her son, as well. And I think, in her heart, you were."

A frown pulled at his lips, and Annabelle leaned in, softly kissing his cheek. "It gets easier," she said. "In time. Lots of time."

He sipped his Pepsi and pulled a face, taking the top off the cup to inspect the brown fizzy liquid. Annabelle smiled and shook her head. Soon the lights dimmed and the theatre quieted.

"Here we go," said Sirius. "I hope this is worth the muggle money."

"If it's awful we can always sneak into the other cinema and see that Star Wars film."

"Sneak in?" he repeated. "Pardon me miss, did you happen to see an Annabelle O'Neill round here? Sweet little do-gooder, never breaks a rule, looks down her adorable nose at those who do? She seems to have gone missing-"

"Oh please," she said, tossing a piece of popcorn at him. "You misinterpreted me." He raised an eyebrow at her. "Nothing wrong with good behaviour," she said with a shrug.

"But questionable behaviour is loads more fun, yeah?"

"I have fun with you no matter what we're doing. You make the most mundane tasks extraordinary. We could be watching a cauldron boil right now, and I would be on cloud nine."

A smile passed over his lips, fading as he continued to stare at her.

"What?" she said. "It's true."

He took her chin in his hand and kissed her on the lips. "You taste like muggle popcorn," he said, his lips still touching hers.

"So do you."

"Good thing we like it so much."

She laughed softly, and after one more kiss, they turned their attention to the film. Sirius rested his head on Annabelle's shoulder as the Bee Gees' voices filled the space around them, and the screen lit up with New York City and a young lad strutting down the pavement.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

After Sirius and Annabelle left for the cinema, James grew quiet again as he attempted to finish his reading, but the discussion over the film had drained him, as most talking did these days, and he lay there like a lump. Lily, unsure what to say to him, leaned back against the headboard and opened her own book. _Just be there for him,_ Rosie had told her. And so she would.

They sat in silence for a bit, James lost in his sadness, and Lily lost in her concern for James. She was jarred from her thoughts by James slamming his book shut. He shoved his fingers under the lenses of his glasses, rubbing his eyes.

"You should have gone with them," he said. "I would have covered for you."

"I couldn't leave you here by yourself," she said, running a hand through his hair. "Not when you're so down."

"I think I need to be alone for a bit," he said, his fingers still covering his eyes as tears escaped from under them.

"You – you want me to leave?"

He sat up, pulling his glasses off and covering his face. "It hits me sometimes, like a massive wave. And it fucking buries me. I don't want you to see me like this."

"All right. I'll go if you really want me to, but James, it's not like you're doing something shameful. You're supposed to be upset. I'd be concerned if you weren't."

"But you must be so tired of me right now," he said quietly, his voice trembling. "All this moping about. Crying like a baby."

"No, actually. I'm not in the least bit tired of you."

"I wouldn't blame you if you were. I'm tired of feeling this way."

"Well _I_ would blame me if I was. ' _Oh, I love him, but his grief is really a nuisance._ ' How awful is that?"

She felt the familiar lump rising in her throat. This was the side of love she hadn't known about before, that she would feel his pain as though it was her own. She placed a tentative hand on his back, trying to control the urge to sob her eyes out.

"James, we're all going to lose our parents at some point. Are we to abandon each other when it happens? Will you abandon me?" She choked up, unable to hold back her tears. "Because I'm going to need you more than ever when that happens."

He turned to her. "I will never abandon you."

"Good. Because it's easy to be there for the good stuff, but love means we don't run away when life hurts. Right?"

"Of course, Lil, but be honest," he said, more tears falling down his cheeks. "You aren't put off by a lad who's bawling for his mummy all the time?"

"Are you not supposed to cry when your mum dies? Where do you get this idea?"

"No girl wants to be with some cry-baby mummy's boy."

Lily wiped her eyes. "Don't pull that macho act with me. You know that's not what interests me. I love you – not only when things are good and easy, but all the time. And I want you to feel like you can share anything with me, even your most unbearable feelings."

He stood up and paced to the window. After a moment of attempting to compose himself, he said, "I just feel so lost."

"I'd feel lost without my mum, as well."

"I keep thinking I'm going to get a letter from her," he said, staring out at the starless night sky. "Like always. Every Sunday, she sends me a letter. My dad isn't as good about writing, but she never missed a Sunday in the entire time I've been here. It's the little things like that that creep up and knock the wind right out of me. I think I'm fine, and _pow_ , suddenly I can't breathe, and I wonder how I'll ever fend for myself, and even though I rationally know I'm not alone and that I'll carry on, sometimes I wonder what it's all for if the end result is always the same."

Lily shifted on the bed to face him. "There is so much more to life than death, James. Your mother would attest to that, I'm sure of it. Do you think she regretted living just because it had to end at some point? Look at all the people she helped, at all the beauty and wonder she left behind. Look at _you_."

He swiped a hand under his eyes, and took a deep breath to slow the swell of despair. Lily stood up and took his hand, leading him back to the bed, and they sat down, side by side.

"How do I get through this?"

"I'll help you," she said, holding his hand in both of hers. "Your mates will help you. None of us are going to let you fend for yourself. Let us carry you for now. There is no shame in that."

He gazed at the floor, and she kissed his cheek, her mouth remaining there as more tears fell from his eyes.

"Besides," she added, "everyone knows mummy's boys make the best husbands."

He looked at her sceptically. "Do they?"

"Of course they do. My mum always said she adored my granny Harriet because she taught my dad how to be the honourable man he is today-"

"Did you say Harriet?"

"Yes, why?"

"My grandfather's name was Harry. Well, Henry, but everyone called him Harry."

"Another sign we're meant to be?" she said, and he fought the urge to grin. "That's what you would say, isn't it?"

"Bound by the name Harry," he replied. "Or Harriet. I think we have our first born's name already picked out."

Lily cringed. "Harriet? I loved my grandmother and all, but I think Harriet's a bit old-fashioned."

"We could call her Rosie then."

Smiling through her tears, Lily agreed. "Yes, I think that would be a perfect name for a little girl."

It occurred to her that she was talking about having babies with James, and it wasn't scaring her. Not in the least. And the fact that she wasn't scared was a wee bit scary in and of itself.

"But back to the subject," she said, even though she wouldn't have minded talking more about baby Rosie, who already felt real to her. "By your definition, I guess my dad could be considered a mummy's boy, because he made sure we visited her every week, and was always available to help her if she needed anything. He took care of the person who took care of him, and I think that's beautiful, and certainly nothing to be ashamed of."

"When did she pass away?"

"The summer between second and third year. We were heartbroken, my dad most of all."

"I'm sorry."

"And I'm so sorry you didn't get to have your mum around a lot longer."

"She would have made a terrific grandmother, wouldn't she?"

"She would have been the best grandmother ever."

He nodded and she kissed him on the lips. When she pulled back, she took his face in her hands. His eyelashes were wet from crying, his eyes bloodshot.

"Oh, sweetheart," she whispered. "I know it's agonising… but I'll help you, all right? Let me help you."

He rested his forehead against hers, then let out a small laugh. "You're actually the one that has kept me afloat through all of this… I couldn't manage without you."

As sad as the situation was, Lily felt touched, not only because he felt that way about her, but because he had said it out loud.

"Well I'm not going anywhere. No matter how big a mummy's boy you are."

He laughed again, this time genuinely.

"What time is it?" he asked, glancing at his watch. "Oh. Right. We were supposed to start rounds ten minutes ago."

"I can ask Alice to come with me, if you'd rather not-" Lily began, but James was already standing, slipping his feet into his shoes and scratching a hand through his hair.

"I'd rather be with you right now, if you don't mind."

Lily smiled at him, and he offered her a hand.

"I don't mind at all," she replied, and placed her hand in his.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Sirius found the film mostly ridiculous, laughing at parts that weren't supposed to be funny, and dozing off when it got a bit dull. Much to Annabelle's dismay, he woke up at the moment a topless woman was dancing in a bar, and Annabelle covered his eyes with her hand.

"Come on, Annie, it's just film," he grunted as he tried to pry her hand off his eyes. "What are you hiding from me?"

She was laughing so hard that she lost the strength to fight him, and let go in time for him to catch a split second of breasts.

He shrugged one shoulder. "I'd rather see yours."

"Sorry, but you won't see mine doing _that_ in a pub."

Copying the woman in the film, Sirius gave his chest a shimmy and Annabelle laughed out loud. A few shushes were heard, which made them both squirm with silent laughter. The pain of keeping it in caused tears to fill their eyes. Annabelle threw a handful of popcorn at him to make him stop, and he returned the gesture.

"Belt up," a man a few rows ahead of them hissed, making it so much worse.

Annabelle pulled her coat round her head so she couldn't see Sirius, and finally, their laughter subsided. Since the film wasn't holding their attention, they decided to take advantage of their back row seats by snogging each other's faces off and groping each other over their clothing, as discreetly as possible.

Once the film finished, they burst out into the frigid London night, cracking up as they re-enacted scenes. Sirius did his best to imitate the lad in the film, strutting and repeating lines in his best Tony Manero accent.

_"_ _You make it with summa these chicks, they think you gotta dance with them."_

"Oh god, please no," said Annabelle. "If I have to hear you impersonating that numpty all night I'm going to use the silencing charm on you."

"You know you fancy him."

Annabelle stopped walking, giving him a disbelieving look. "He was a bloody moron. The way he talked about girls was foul."

"You're right about that, but come on, he could dance."

"So?"

"So girls fancy lads that can dance, yeah?"

"Only if they're not dimwits."

"I'll have to practise my moves then," he said, rolling his fists round each other like in the film. When she started laughing, he spun round and pointed a finger to the sky. "Just call me Tony."

"If you're Tony, then we're going to have to break up."

" _Come on, baby_ ," he said in a terrible New York accent. " _You don't mean it."_

Annabelle covered her ears, shaking with laughter. "Please _stop_."

He tugged on her arm, pulling her back the way they had come. Uncovering her ears, she was about to asked what he was doing, but he stopped in front of a tattoo parlour, and she had her answer.

"I think I want to get a tattoo of a disco ball that says _'Stayin' Alive'_ over it. I can charm it to spin!"

Annabelle's jaw dropped open. "Have you gone mad?"

"No. I mean it," he said leading her toward the door of the shop. "To commemorate this night."

"Sirius, _no_. I will throw myself in front of the needle. No!"

"It'll be lovely. You'll see."

"Sirius, you _will_ regret this. Don't get a tattoo of that film. I'm begging you."

He stopped in front of the door, frowning, and she felt herself beginning to cave – Merlin, how his sad face could undo her - but then he grinned and swung an arm round her neck. "Gotcha."

"Wait… so… you're not getting the tattoo you described then?"

"Most definitely _not_. Really, Annie. You think I want a tattoo of that naff shite?"

"You're an arse," she said, bumping her hip against his as they walked away from the shop.

He laughed, delighted he had tricked her. "And you remain my favourite person to tease."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Tell me about your internship," said James, as he and Lily wandered the castle, taking their time with rounds. "You haven't said a word about it all week."

Lily sighed. "Sure, but when I'm through boring you with it, you're going to wish you'd gone to the cinema instead."

"Listening to you talk is never boring. You are far more interesting to me than some film."

The sincerity in his voice floored her, and she glanced at him, incredulous at how wonderful he truly was.

"What?" he responded. "What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing is wrong with that. Nothing at all."

So she told him how disillusioned she was, and how she felt she'd made a mistake, and despite his own pain, he listened, offering words of support and encouragement.

"You're brilliant, Lily," he said as he ran a hand over her back. "If they don't recognise that, someone else will. You will have your choice of careers. You're going to be all right."

She smiled at him, slipping her arm round his waist. Mummy's boy or not, one thing was for certain, Rosie had every reason to be proud of her boy.

"And so are you. I promise."

With a kiss, she sealed her promise, and when she pulled back, he brushed her hair from her face with his fingertips. He was about to kiss her again, but he went still.

"Did you hear that?" he asked.

Lily's brow furrowed and she shook her head. "What was it?" she whispered.

"Sounded like voices coming from a classroom. I'm going to have a look."

"I'll check over here," she said, and approached the classroom closest to where she stood. James backtracked down the corridor and finding the door unlocked, he stepped into the room. Lighting the tip of his wand, he said, "I know you're in here, so you might as well come out," but there was no response, and he figured he had imagined it. Right when he was turning to leave, the sound of Lily's scream ripped through him, and he bolted back into the corridor.

She was on the floor, her body contorted, and her mouth agape in a combination of shock and pain. He ran to her, but just before he reached her, a searing pain seized him as if his muscles were splitting under his skin. White hot daggers attacked his lungs, making it impossible to breathe. It felt like he'd been lit on fire and left to die. Just when he thought the pounding in his head would force his eyeballs to explode, it stopped, and his body went limp. He stared up at the ceiling, gasping for air, the aftershocks rippling through him.

When awareness returned to him, he got to his knees and scrambled to Lily where she was sprawled out on the floor, her eyes pressed shut and her breathing rapid.

"Lily?" he asked in a tremulous voice, like his throat was full of water. He choked out a sob. "Lily? Open your eyes. We have to go."

He slipped his arm under her head, and pulled her to him, too weak to carry her. "Please," he breathed through his pain, "we have to go."

Tears squeezed out of her eyes as her arm tightened round his neck, and she allowed him to pull her to her feet, but she whimpered and collapsed again, pulling him down with her. He didn't have the strength to cast even the simplest levitation spell at the moment, but he feared another attack and began to panic.

"Somebody _help!"_ he cried out, his voice echoing through the castle.

"Oh my god!" Mira Shafiq's voice cried out from the end of the corridor. "What happened?"

James wiped the sweat from his brow and twisted round to see her running towards them. "A curse. I need to get her to the hospital wing."

"I'll get Madam Pomfrey," she said. She sprinted to the stairwell, but stopped to yell, "Don't try to move her on your own!"

James' head dropped, his breath still coming in ragged gasps, and he doubled over on the floor, a protective arm slung over a quietly weeping Lily.

 


	14. Afraid of the Dark

_.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-._

_"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate._

_Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure._

_It is our light not our darkness that frightens us."_

_\- Marianne Willliamson_

_.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-._

When Sirius and Annabelle returned to the castle, they hadn't expected to find the dormitories on lockdown and a full blown investigation taking place. Their friends were gathered in the common room, and explained what happened to James and Lily. Sirius turned back to the portrait hole. Without looking, he reached a hand out behind him as he walked, finding comfort when Annabelle's fingers laced with his.

They took a secret shortcut to the hospital wing, and when they arrived, James was seated at Lily's bedside, elbows on his knees, his fingernails between his teeth. Traces of fear flickered in his eyes as he looked up at them.

"We heard," said Sirius, giving James' shoulder a squeeze before pulling two more chairs over for Annabelle and himself.

"She got it worse than me," James said, his voice shaking with the rest of him as he stared at Lily. She was sound asleep. "Passed out on the way here."

"Who would do this?" asked Annabelle.

"I can come up with a few ideas," muttered James.

"But why would they go this far?" asked Annabelle. "How could they?"

"Who knows? Maybe they're copying Death Eaters."

"Maybe they _are_ Death Eaters," said Sirius.

Madam Pomfrey came out of her office, a small blue bottle of Reviving Salts in her hand. Upon discovering Sirius and Annabelle, she scolded, "Pardon me, but no one is supposed to be here. You are to return to your dormitory immediately."

"Please, ma'am, can't we stay a short while?" begged Annabelle, but Madam Pomfrey wouldn't be swayed.

"The Aurors are on their way, and you must be in your dormitory so they might investigate this crime without interference. Now go."

Crime. The word sent a chill through Annabelle, along with the knowledge that someone was fearless enough to cast an Unforgiveable Curse right under Dumbledore's nose. First, the Dementia Curse, now this; the culprit was growing bolder.

"Yes, ma'am," said Annabelle, and motioned to Sirius, who was reluctant to leave James' side, but knew better than to mess with an Auror investigation. He stood and followed Annabelle out.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Frank Longbottom was one of two Aurors dispatched to the scene, and after a long night of investigating, he stopped by the Gryffindor Common Room to say goodnight. Lily and James had returned an hour before, and though they were doing better physically, mentally they were still rattled. Lily clung to James on the sofa, her face pinched with distress.

"I know you lot think you're invincible," Frank said sternly, addressing the group of seventh-years, "but keep your wits about you. Don't go off alone, stay in the tower at night, and when doing your walkthroughs," he looked at James, Lily, and Remus, "go in groups and keep your wands brandished. Don't take any chances."

"Yes _sir_!" said Peter, saluting like a soldier. Frank stared him down, unamused, until Peter murmured a meek apology.

Turning his attention back to James and Lily, Frank asked, "By any chance, would Mira Shafiq happen to have a conflict with either of you?"

James raised his eyebrows. "Mira? You think Mira did it?"

"I want to examine all possibilities. She was nearby when it happened, and she was also present when Miss Shaw was cursed."

"Mira is a _team_ mate," said James, appalled at the idea. "She would never curse me or anyone."

"She couldn't," said Johnny B. "She wouldn't curse a doxy, let alone a person."

"No way was it Mira," Sirius agreed. "If you want to find the culprit, you are looking in the wrong house."

"Believe me, we are looking in all houses."

Lily choked out a sob, and James hugged her head to his chest. Annabelle's anger flared inside of her.

"What will happen when this lunatic gets caught?" she asked.

Frank shrugged. "Depends on the Wizengamot. Final sentencing is up to them, and every decision is made on a case by case basis."

"What if it's not a student?" Peter asked. "What if someone's getting in from the outside? The castle's got loads of passages." James, Sirius, and Remus shot him threatening looks, and Peter became defensive. "What? Don't all castles have passages? Dumbledore has to know about at least some of them. And if he doesn't, maybe he should!"

"Rest assured, Peter," said Frank, "Dumbledore is aware the castle has passages. But we also have reliable intelligence reports indicating Voldemort has not sent anyone into the castle."

Peter's eyes widened. "Intelligence? You mean like _spies?_ Now I know I picked the wrong internship. _"_

"There are some things I can't discuss, but trust me when I tell you, the safety of all students is Dumbledore's first priority. There are precautions being taken at this very moment."

"What about the Floo connections?" Peter went on. "There's scads of them."

"Fucking hell," said Sirius. "He told you they know it's an inside job!"

Peter glared at him. "I just want us all to be safe! Is there something wrong with that?"

"Listen," said Frank, before things got out of hand, "Hogwarts is not Voldemort's primary target. He wants to win followers, and he can't do that by attacking the children of the witches and wizards whose support he wants. We're confident, as well, that he's not willing to tangle with Dumbledore. Voldemort knows how powerful the headmaster is, and will want to avoid the risk of losing to him, for now anyway."

"So you think it's some wand-happy troublemaker?" asked Remus.

"It's possible, but if not, and Voldemort is connected to these crimes, it'd likely be a student who has joined up with him, proving himself somehow. Someone Voldemort can use and throw away."

When the time came for Frank to leave, Alice walked him out to the stairs, and he hugged her with everything in him. "Be safe," he told her, "and don't you and your mates go investigating this yourselves."

She nodded and whispered, "Do you have any idea who might be doing it? I'm not asking for names, only some peace of mind."

"We have a few theories, but nothing solid with which to charge anyone yet."

"This is so much worse than I ever thought."

"Try to sleep some," he said. "I'll see you tomorrow at the Ministry."

She looked up at him, feeling overwhelmed and frightened, and he pulled her close again. "Don't worry, love. The password to the tower has been changed, and I highly doubt whoever's responsible will strike again tonight."

"I know. I just wish I could come with you. I miss you."

"And I miss you like crazy, but you have your friends to keep you busy, yeah?"

"Sure, but not like I used to." Frank's brow knitted in confusion and she explained quietly, "They spend a lot of time with their boyfriends, and not that I blame them, but it does leave me feeling like a bit of a fifth wheel. All I can think is if you were here, I wouldn't feel so left out."

"June will be here before you know it, and everything will change. You'll see."

Alice tried to smile, but couldn't. "You're right."

"I hate to leave you like this," he said, tracing her brow with his fingertips.

"I'm sorry. I'm being a baby. I'll survive."

He held her one last time. "Tomorrow. I will see you tomorrow."

After a kiss goodbye, and a painful longing to go with him, Alice went back inside, making sure the portrait hole was sealed tight.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

James had wanted Lily to stay with him that night, but they both thought better of it when they considered Professor McGonagall might check on her at some point. She barely slept, fearing whoever cursed her would strike again, and when it was time to wake up, she was too exhausted to move.

"We'll be back after class," said Annabelle. "Go to sleep."

Too tired to answer, Lily nodded faintly and closed her eyes.

After breakfast, McGonagall stopped by to see her, and advised her to take a Calming Draught before bed that evening. She would inform Madam Pomfrey to have it ready so one of her friends could pick it up for her.

"You're going to be fine, Miss Evans. And the scoundrel responsible will be caught. I have no doubt."

"Thank you, Professor. I hope you're right… on both counts."

During the break between classes, Annabelle and Alice returned to the dormitory while Sirius accompanied James to the hospital wing to pick up the Calming Draught. Madam Pomfrey gave him one dose, and if Lily needed more she was to see Madam Pomfrey herself. As the boys were making their way back to Gryffindor Tower, they encountered Severus Snape and Damon Wilkes on the landing between the fourth and fifth floors, headed in the opposite direction. Damon stared at them, his sagging facial expression spookier than usual.

"What are you looking at, wanker?" Sirius challenged him as they passed.

"You really want an answer?" Damon retorted.

Sirius and James slowed, turning to face the Slytherins. Severus had a one foot on a step, but halted, gripping his wand.

"Sure," said Sirius, stepping closer to Damon. "Answer me. I dare you."

"Yeah, this oughta be good," said James, crossing his arms over himself.

Damon tilted his head to one side. "Funny, that's what your mum said last night right before we-"

With lightning speed, James' fist collided with Damon's nose, and a split second later, Sirius summoned Damon's wand. Severus pressed himself against the wall, attempting to look bored, but not daring to take on James and Sirius alone.

Sirius bent towards Damon where he'd landed on the floor and spat, "Speak that way again, and your own mum won't recognise you when she visits you at St. Mungo's. Got it, Wilkes?"

Injured and without a wand, Damon also wasn't naïve enough to fight back. Instead, he scowled, holding a hand over his bloody nose.

"Let's go," Sirius said to James, and made to turn, but James wasn't finished. He was eyeing Severus like he was the most repulsive creature in existence, magical or otherwise.

"Now what is it, Potter?" Severus sneered.

"You pretended to care about her," James answered the greasy-haired boy. "But clearly you don't, or you wouldn't have let them do this to her."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I know you're dying to see me suffer, _but you couldn't have told them to leave her alone_?"

Severus glared at James, enunciating his words slowly. " _I don't know what you're talking about_."

A lofty smile flashed across Sirius' face, his eyes wide with derision. "You always say that, yet it's a big fucking _lie_ , every time."

"I would never hurt Lily."

"Erm, all right. Next, you're going to tell us it wasn't you calling her a mudblood after the Transfiguration O.W.L. Have you ever told the truth, Snivellus? Even once?"

"Piss off, Black. I apologised to her for that ages ago."

Sirius could barely contain the urge to pummel him. With his jaw set, he warned, "I'm this close to figuring out what you were brewing the night your potion stunk up the lab, and there is no way Slughorn asked you to brew it. You're a liar."

"What Slughorn asks me to brew doesn't concern you. Mind your own business."

James' face scrunched up in disgust. "Mind his own business? That's rich, coming from the nosiest, most intrusive git at Hogwarts."

Snape didn't respond, and Sirius said, "I think Sluggy needs to be more careful about leaving a sick fuck like you in charge of the Potions lab."

"You are the only sick ones here."

"You couldn't have her," said James, his voice eerily soft, "so you allowed her to be _tortured_."

"Don't you dare accuse me of hurting her! You pretend to know me, but you don't!"

He made to leave, but James disarmed him and grabbed him by the neck.

"Do you think this is a game?" James demanded through gritted teeth, colour rising in his cheeks. "You'd better warn your twisted mates, when I find out who did this, that person is going to pay. Mark my words."

He let him go with shove, and Snape staggered backwards, stumbling down the first few steps.

"And if it turns out you had a part in it," added Sirius, "you'd better fucking run." With a flick of his wand, he immobilised the two Slytherins, then dropped their wands to the floor. "Change of plans," he said to James. "I need to go back downstairs."

"Where are we going?"

When they were out of earshot of the motionless boys, he replied, "To the Potions Lab."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

On their way to the dungeons, Sirius explained to James about the night he and Annabelle where chased out of the lab by the reeking potion Snivellus was brewing. Since Snape had been so secretive about it, Sirius figured it couldn't be good, and in his spare time he had looked into it, eventually narrowing it down to two possibilities.

"It's either Blood-Replenishing Potion, or Garrotting Gas," he said with confidence.

"I'm guessing it's the latter then," said James, "since Blood-Replenishing Potion would mean he wanted to help someone instead of harm them."

"Unless he was trying to keep someone alive after harming them."

"I don't know… He's a creep, but is he a psychopath?"

"Hopefully we'll find out right now."

Slughorn was seated at his desk when they arrived, a sweet-smelling potion brewing in a cauldron beside him. Sirius walked right up to him, ready with a story that would buy some time.

"Excuse me, sir, but Peeves is causing utter chaos in the boys' loo upstairs. When we told him to stop it, he said he only answers to professors."

"Damn that poltergeist," said Slughorn, setting down his quill and getting up from his chair. "A constant nuisance, he is. Watch that potion for me, boys. This shouldn't take long."

James kept lookout while Sirius scanned the shelves for the key ingredients which caused both potions in question to stink while brewing them – dehydrated Lethifold dung for the Garrotting Gas, which he had read smelled exactly like one would imagine Lethifold dung to smell like, especially when reconstituted with other wet ingredients _;_ and Neem oil for the Blood-replenishing potion, which came from the nut of the Neem tree and was said to smell like burning rubbish. He had never used either in a potion to date, and wanted to see if Slughorn kept them stocked.

"Hurry up, Padfoot. He'll be back any second."

Sirius found the Neem oil straightaway, and raised it to his nose. After a coughing fit, he said, "This has to be it."

He continued his search for the dehydrated Lethifold dung but didn't find any.

"He's coming," said James. "And he looks pissed off."

"S'all right. I'm finished."

"Bloody demon," the professor grumbled as he entered the room. James and Sirius sent each other astonished looks, then forced themselves not to laugh. "Time to relocate him is what I say, but Dumbledore insists he can't be moved."

"Peeves – was there? In the loo?" James asked.

"Causing the toilets to shoot water up to the ceiling. Do me a favour, if it happens again, alert Mr. Filch to the problem. I'm tired of dealing with the beast."

"Yes sir," they said, and hurried out of the room, amazed that Peeves' presence had unwittingly helped them for a change.

On the way back to Gryffindor tower, James considered Sirius' theory. "But maybe Slughorn keeps the Lethifold Dung in his personal stores, or simply ran out. Or maybe Snivellus managed to get his own."

"It's possible, but it's meant to be rather expensive, because Lethifolds are so rare and dangerous. I read one ounce costs around ninety galleons. And you need at least three ounces to make Garrotting Gas. It's only used in a few potions, none of which Slughorn has taught us so far, and considering their uselessness or their danger, he probably won't. So if I had to wager, I'd say the git was making Blood-Replenishing Potion."

"You really did your research. But what the hell would he need it for?"

"Good question."

James shuddered as he began to consider the possibilities for which Snivellus might require a potion meant to be administered by trained healers in very severe cases of blood loss. There was no rational reason Snape would need it, but dark wizards were not known to be rational.

"Didn't he say Slughorn told him to brew it?"

"Yes," answered Sirius, "but you know as well as I do what a liar he is."

"Probably right."

"I know I'm right. That sicko is plotting something. Or he's been commissioned by some other sickos to do their dirty work."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Lily sat up in her bed, still in her nightgown. Remembering the physical pain of the curse, she closed her eyes tight, amazed it hadn't killed her. She knew it only mimicked the effects of extreme torture on one's nerve endings, but it had felt so real, like her bones were breaking all at once, knives were skinning her alive, and an elephant was sitting on her lungs. But then it was over, and the absence of excruciating pain was like a blast of cold air hitting her, and she had thought she was dead. She was glad Annabelle and Alice had returned. She felt safer with two skilled witches by her side.

"I can't believe Severus would still be friends with people who are capable of this," she said, unaware James had just confronted him for the same reason. "I know he's not who I thought he was, but is he really so desperate to fit in with those maniacs that he would stand by and let them torture people? Let them torture _me_? Or do you think he's unaware of who's doing it?"

"I don't know," said Annabelle, "but his best mate is Damon Wilkes, who Sirius said is a childhood friend of Amycus and Evan. I can't imagine Severus could be completely in the dark about what they're up to."

"Do you think Sev could have taught them how to cast the Cruciatus Curse?" asked Lily.

"He might have done," said Alice. "We know he's got a Dark Arts fetish. But I think they probably learnt it from Evan's Death Eater brothers."

"None of their lot have bothered us lately," said Annabelle. "I thought maybe they'd grown up some."

"If these curses are their doing," said Alice, "then they _have_ bothered us, quite a bit."

Even after all the petty encounters with Evan Rosier, and knowing his brothers were Death Eaters, Annabelle still couldn't imagine he was involved with Voldemort. Something about the urgency in his voice when he tried to convince her he wasn't a danger to Teagan made her doubt he would join the most dangerous organisation known to Wizardkind, at least not willingly. Anything was possible, though, as her seventeen years of life had taught her, so she kept her doubts to herself.

"All this talk of Unforgiveable Curses over the years," said Lily, her voice barely above a whisper, "and I barely paid any mind, because they happened to other people, in tragic but rare circumstances. And they certainly didn't happen in school. They were almost mythical to me, you know?"

"Yes. I know," said Annabelle.

"Now, can't stop thinking about them. Why would someone even think to invent them?" she demanded as she twisted her blanket in her hands. "People are dark and monstrous, and capable of the most horrific harm to others."

"Not everyone is, Lil," said Alice. "Don't forget."

Lily looked at her with sad eyes. "But the ones who are make life unbearable for the others."

It was difficult to argue with her statement, so Annabelle tried to be encouraging.

"Sometimes the good outshines the bad, and things change for the better. We can't let the darkness win."

Lily curled up on her side, a despondency settling over her. "I feel so powerless. Like we're at their mercy."

"We can't let them scare us into submission," said Annabelle, remembering what Sirius had said to her once. "We can't let our fear rule us. Then they will definitely win."

But even as Annabelle spoke, her words felt empty, because she didn't know how to rise above her fear any more than Lily did.

"But how?" asked Lily. "How do we do this?"

"By getting up and going to your internship today," said Alice. "It's a start, anyway."

Lily grimaced, but she was too tired to complain about her internship. Instead she closed her eyes, and started drifting off again. Right before Annabelle and Alice left for class, they each gave her a kiss on her forehead – a small dose of the comfort she so desperately needed.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Later on, she managed to wake up again and haul herself to Diagon Alley with the other students interning at businesses there. Fortescue's small staff had been so preoccupied with their work, that when she arrived, they barely took notice of her. Most of them didn't know or care why she was there, and the one person who asked looked at her like she was mad when she explained she was an intern. Again, she was bored senseless while she helped take inventory of the ingredients, and sat in on a meeting to discuss the next big flavour which went on for over an hour.

Just hearing James talk about his internship had fascinated her, and why she hadn't applied at St. Mungo's, she didn't know, but she definitely would look into training programmes there. Ice Cream was grand and all, but making it wasn't going to fulfil her desire to help others and to have a meaningful impact on the world. Too bad she had wasted an internship opportunity to figure it out, but maybe a mistake was what it took to point in her the right direction.

At the Ministry, Annabelle was relieved Marlene had assigned her and Esmeralda to different Magical Social Workers for the afternoon. She didn't suspect Esmeralda of cursing Lily and James, but there was always a chance she knew more than she let on. Marlene assigned her to a young witch who specialised in services for ageing witches and wizards, and Annabelle to a middle-aged wizard called Bernard Branok, whose task it was to provide assistance to poor members of the wizarding community. Marlene informed her it was the position Annabelle's grandfather had started off in, and how he had created many of the programmes in place today.

"I think it's fitting you start there, as well," Marlene said, "so you can see for herself what a legacy he left behind."

Annabelle smiled uneasily, the word "legacy" weighing on her. She was intimidated by this Darien O'Neill she didn't know, how larger-than-life he was, how revered. He had been brave, and dynamic, and utterly devoted to his work… it was a lot to live up to.

Marlene's brow furrowed. "Is everything all right?"

Not wanting to burden Marlene with her woes, she replied, "Yes, just a bit tired I reckon."

A wistful smile passed over Marlene's face. "Ah I remember those days fondly - staying up too late, chatting with my friends, then unable to function properly in classes the next day. Professor Sprout used to give us such a scolding, but in a loving way, you know what I mean?"

"Yes," said Annabelle, forcing another weak smile. "She's a lot like Professor McGonagall."

Marlene eyed her with concern. "Come into my office for a moment."

And a moment was all it took for Marlene to get her talking about her grandfather.

"To me he was a muggle, like. My only family. He used to read Peter Pan and The Secret Garden to me before I went to bed. Here, he was an innovator _..._ an activist. A powerful agent of change. It's daunting when I think about it, because now, everywhere I go, people put him on this pedestal, and I feel this pressure to be just like him. And what if I can't?"

"No one expects you to be his duplicate, Annabelle. You have your own gifts to offer this field, and they may be entirely different from his. But you're here, which means you care, and that's truly the most important part of his legacy. See? We're all here because we care, and want to set change in motion, just as he did."

"Aren't you afraid…" Annabelle began with apprehension, "...You-Know-Who will destroy everything you've all worked so hard for?"

"Sometimes, but he can't destroy our ideals. He can't stop us from opposing him."

"But he's so viscous. And he's gaining power. People want to be like him, even kids… they want to act to like him and hurt others…" She stopped herself, not wanting to get emotional in front of her supervisor, but all she could think of was her friends being cursed.

"Is someone giving you are difficult time at school?" Marlene asked.

She wasn't sure if she should tell her the whole story, but no one told them the cursings were to be kept secret. Aurors had questioned several students in each house, and everyone had heard about it by breakfast the next morning. Some students were bound to have told their parents. And Marlene seemed so genuine, Annabelle felt she could tell her anything and she would understand.

"Well, sort of. We have a bit of a copy-cat, or so we think. There's someone cursing students."

"Cursing students?" Marlene asked, frowning deeply. "What kind of curses?"

"Started with the Dementia Curse, but last night they moved up… to the Cruciatus. They got my friend and her boyfriend."

Marlene stared at her, a mixture of shock and fury tensing her normally soft features. "I- I- I'm speechless!" she stammered, but then went on, "What is being done? Has Dumbledore said anything?"

"Aurors were called in, we answered questions, passwords were changed and what not. They're hoping whoever is doing it will be too intimidated to strike again, now that the authorities are involved, but they're taking precautions to keep us safe, whatever that means."

"So they're sure it's a student."

"No, not entirely."

"Merlin," she said, her indignation growing. "I can't – I can't believe it's getting to this point. Kids, for goodness sake. _Kids_. When is Minister Minchum going to _wake up_?"

Annabelle looked down uneasily, wondering if she shouldn't have told her about it. Marlene was really upset.

"All I can think is in a few years, my children will be going to school," she went on, "and I want to believe they'll be safe." She paused, looking out her charmed window as she took a deep breath. "I'm sorry you're being subjected to this madness. Passing your N.E.W.T.s should be your biggest concern right now, not whether you'll be tortured on your way to dinner." She sighed in frustration, then smacked both hands on her desk. "Right. Best get you to Bernard. He'll be thrilled to have you working with him."

A sharp voice from the outer office interrupted them.

"Meeting! Conference Room! Now!" Sturgis Podmore's voice called out to the staff.

Marlene grabbed some parchment and two quills, handing one to Annabelle, and they made their way to the conference room. Esmeralda was already there, sitting in a chair against the wall. As Annabelle sat beside her, Esmeralda flashed her a tight smile, which she promptly returned in an effort to remain civil. The staff gathered round a conference table, and the Head of the Department, Madam Perla Palemore entered the room, a grave look on her face.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Alice had just finished writing up a report on an alleged Death Eater who was caught hiding inside a secret crawl-space in the Tower of London, when a tall, muscular man with dark hair and a staff came lumbering into the office.

"Where is Scrimgeour!" he blustered in a Scottish accent, causing Alice to startle.

"He stepped out for lunch, sir," said one of trainees, a girl named Juno Banks.

"Lunch?" the man bellowed. "We have a crisis in Northumberland. A sweet factory explosion. And the git decides to take lunch?!"

The trainees and Alice stared at him, and he snapped, "Tell him I'm taking Meadowes and Longbottom. _Lunch_ … feckin' eejit." He stalked back through the door, and it slammed automatically behind him.

Alice looked at Juno Banks, and Juno said, "Alastor Moody. He's quite possibly the best there is, but he's a bit stroppy sometimes."

"Clearly," said Alice.

"Scrimgeour, the one he was looking for," Juno explained, "he's also a top Auror. They have a small rivalry with each other, but honestly I think it's an act."

"It didn't sound like an act," said Alice.

"When it comes down to it, Aurors need to have each other's backs. They have to trust each other with their lives. Those two are the best, and they helped each other get where they are today, you know what I mean?"

The door burst open again, and a lanky young man with tawny hair like a lion's mane stepped in, a sandwich in hand. "Banks, I need the report on the wiz-idiot we caught hiding out in the Tower of London. And where the hell is Moody?"

Juno cleared her throat. "There was explosion at a sweet factory in Northumberland. He said to tell you he took Meadowes and Longbottom."

"Fucking hell," groaned Scrimgeour, casting a dispirited look at his half-eaten sandwich before vanishing it and hurrying out of the room.

His reaction caused Alice's heart to pound. Frank was going with them, into Merlin knew what danger, and she had to sit there, filing paperwork. Because they were short-handed, the department had recently expedited the qualifying process for trainees showing the most skill and promise, and Frank was now a full-fledged Auror. Alice knew he was up to the challenge, but the fact that they were hurting for help meant one thing; Voldemort was overpowering them.

 _Frank will be fine,_ she told herself, and repeated it in her head like a mantra.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Lily was in the middle of filling out an order for double cream when she was sent up the road to the Cake-Away Bakery to pick up some chocolate biscuits, to be used in an experimental flavour called Coffee-Toffee-Crunch. Getting outside felt liberating, despite the cold, and she wanted to cry when she saw Caradoc bringing out her order, because he was a friendly, familiar face.

"What's wrong?" he asked straightaway.

She hadn't realised she was being so obvious. "Eh. A bit bored maybe."

"Oh, hello Lily!" chirped Phyllis, after bursting through the same door Caradoc had come from. They were both wearing white chef robes and paper hats, looking like they fit right in. "Made any ice cream yet?"

"Not even a scoop."

"Maybe you will next week."

Caradoc was looking at Phyllis with the tiniest hint of amusement, probably because one side of her face was dusted with flour. Lily grinned at the sight of her, as well.

"Right. I should get back with these biscuits."

"Caradoc helped make them," said Phyllis. "They're lovely. Want to try one? We have a few extras in the back."

"Oh, em, I should get back with these. But bring some to school and I'll try one."

"All right, see ya," said Caradoc.

When half-five arrived, Lily took a seat by the window in the ice cream parlour to wait for her friends. Remus entered about five minutes later and joined her, tossing a copy of the Prophet onto the table.

"Any interesting stories today?" she asked.

"No, but Sirius will want the crossword."

She forced a cheery smile. "How did it go?"

"Was all right, I reckon. Copy-edited an article about a newsreader from the WWN who disappeared without a trace a few weeks ago. He'd made some jokes about Voldemort on air."

"When will it be in the paper?"

"It won't be. Scrapped at the last moment. The editor thought it would be too controversial since there's no proof You-Know-Who was responsible. Yet."

"Your editor should be ashamed," muttered Lily. "How are you going to stand working there when they're in denial?"

Remus grew tense. "I don't have a lot of options, Lily. I have to make do."

"Right, of course. I didn't mean to suggest you shouldn't make it work." She placed her fingers on her temples, a frustrated laugh escaping her. "I think Sirius was right. Working for other people is rubbish, isn't it?"

"I take it you're not happy here."

"It's not what I hoped it would be. And I feel like they're making things up for me to do just to get me out of their hair."

"That's not good."

"I don't know if I can take four more Fridays of this."

The music coming from the radio was interrupted with breaking news:

**_"An explosion in Flume's Sweet Factory this afternoon has left fourteen workers dead. The Flumes, owners of Honeydukes Sweet Shop, have expressed their sympathy for the victims' families, and have promised to comply with investigators. The Ministry has Aurors on the scene – we will be reporting more on this tragedy as the facts come in."_ **

"Oh my god," whispered Lily. "Not again."

"Don't panic," said Remus. "It could have been a spell gone wrong. We can't assume until we hear more."

"More lives taken. And the Flumes! They're the nicest people in Hogsmeade. They must be going out of their minds over this!"

Remus scrubbed a hand over his face, but didn't try to dispel her fears again. Deep down, she wanted him to. She wanted him to tell her it was probably a freak accident, and Voldemort wasn't responsible. Not that a freak accident would have been less tragic, but when there was no news of Voldemort, she convinced herself he was gone for good, so when he did strike, she felt defeated and foolish. And helpless. So utterly helpless. Factories could be rebuilt, but the lives and the families destroyed could not be. How many had to die before people woke up?

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Sirius and Jacoby were the first ones to the fountain again, followed by Annabelle and Esmeralda.

"Did you hear?" Esmeralda asked Jacoby.

"The explosion? Yes, we heard. S'fucked up."

Esmeralda blinked nervously. "Rumour is Lord Voldemort's followers are responsible. What do you think?"

"I don't know. But MacFarlan's secretary said the Flumes are known round Hogsmeade to be anti-Voldemort. Says they're always putting him down and whatnot."

"Jorkins is a gossip," said Sirius. "Who knows how much truth there is behind her chatter?"

"Well if she is telling the truth, it looks like speaking out against him comes with consequences. Like he's trying to scare his detractors into compliance."

"We were called into a meeting about it," said Annabelle. "The families affected are going to need assistance. Many of them were single-income households. There's a family of three children who are now orphans, because both parents worked at the factory."

She swallowed past the lump in her throat when she thought of those children left behind, the ones for whom Marlene would have to secure temporary living arrangements, tracking down any extended family members who would be willing to take them in. She wasn't in her office when Annabelle and Esmeralda left for the day, having already departed with a law enforcement officer to the children's home to collect them from their tutor and break the news to them in the gentlest way possible.

"My supervisor has to tell them their parents are dead," Annabelle continued in a trembling voice. "I don't know if I could do it – tell children something so horrible."

Sirius gave her head a rub, then pulled her into his arms. "You will cross that bridge if you come to it."

Just after Jacoby and Esmeralda left, Peter arrived, walking as fast as his short legs could carry him. Annabelle could see he was unnerved by the news, as his office would have been notified straightaway. As soon as he reached Sirius, he relaxed visibly, as though he knew he was safer with his stronger and more skilled friend by his side.

"When I said I wanted to see more action," he said, "I didn't mean this."

"Course not," said Sirius. "This is insanity."

Alice was fifteen minutes late meeting them. Her mouth was turned down, and she shook her head ominously as she approached them.

"So, was it him?" asked Sirius.

She faintly shrugged one shoulder, unable to meet his eyes. "That seems to be the general consensus round the office. No confirmation yet, as they're still in Northumberland."

"Shite," groaned Sirius. "I guess we shouldn't be surprised."

"I have more news."

Annabelle winced, but Alice quickly clarified, "It's not bad news. They want some of the interns to begin training straightaway, after classes, Monday through Thursday. Their ranks are overwhelmed - they aren't used to the demand being placed on the department." Annabelle, Sirius, and Peter gave her a blank look, and she said, "Auror training. _Real_ Auror training."

Sirius was taken aback. "And they'll accept you into the programme? Just like that?"

"I have to pass an entrance exam, but yeah, they said they want to 'accelerate the training process.' They're really floundering."

"What about your N.E.W.T.s?" asked Annabelle.

"They only asked the interns with top marks, because we have the best chance of earning the required N.E.W.T.s. Benjy Fenwick was chosen as well."

"Dumbledore'll never go for it," declared Peter.

"Doesn't matter if he does or doesn't," Alice said. "I just need my parents' permission." In a small voice, she added, "The Ministry overrides Dumbledore."

"Are you going to do it?" asked Sirius.

"I think I am. Am I mad?"

"No, not mad," said Annabelle. "Brave. You're very brave."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The bell on the ice cream parlour door jangled as James flung it open, swinging it shut behind him. He pecked Lily on the lips, collapsed into a chair, and with his elbow on the table, he propped his head up in his hand.

"St. Mungo's was a disappointment I take it?" asked Remus.

"No, actually. It was rather interesting. I got to use a surgical charm on a Keeper who'd cut his chin open on a goal post. Felt like a proper healer and all that. But then Van Arsdall got called to the Emergency department. You heard about the explosion?"

"We just did," said Lily.

"Several critically injured factory workers were brought in, as well as an Auror. Apparently one of the lunatics who caused it set a trap for him, and he lost an eye bringing him down."

Lily gasped. "An eye?"

"Yep. The Auror apparently captured him anyway, despite having a hollow, bloody eye socket, the optic nerve and muscles all tattered and flapping about. Crazy, yeah?"

"If I hadn't lost my appetite already, I have now," said Remus, as Lily wrinkled her nose.

The bell jangled again and in walked Peter, followed by Alice, Annabelle and Sirius.

"Oh, I wanted to run up the street for a new quill," said Annabelle. "Do I have time?"

Sirius glanced at his watch. "Eh, who cares if we're a few minutes late. I'll go with you."

"No, stay," she insisted. "I'll be right back, for Merlin's sake. It's only a few doors away."

"You are not going alone," he said firmly, a hint of fear in his voice. Annabelle realised instantly how stupid she was being. Fourteen people had been murdered in a magical facility. Voldemort wasn't only targeting muggles anymore.

"I'll go with her," said Alice. "I need a roll of parchment."

Sirius conceded, and the girls hurried across the way to Scribbulus Stationery. Annabelle chose a quill and went to the register to pay, hoping Alice was almost finished so they could get back to the castle without a scolding from McGonagall for being late. Glancing about the shop, she noticed Sirius was there, facing the front window and looking down at a stack of leather-bound journals. For goodness sake, did he think she and Alice were completely inept? But even though his overprotectiveness bordered on maddening at times, she couldn't stay cross with him. Like everyone else, he was doing his best to deal with what was happening, and to hold on to the people he loved.

She finished paying for her item and sneaked up behind him, giving his sides a tickle. "Boo, ya stalker!"

He jerked around and Annabelle gasped, dropping her bag as her hands flew over her mouth. Regulus Black stared furiously down at her. She couldn't believe she'd mistook him, yet, she could… the same long hair, a similar black wool coat, the same height, except up close she could see Regulus was slightly taller than his brother. He was the same lad in Sirius' pictures, only several years older now.

"I- I'm sorry. I thought you were –" She stopped herself, and swallowed hard.

He continued to stare at her, a flash of resentment in his grey eyes. She bent down for her quill, but a pale hand adorned with a sparkling diamond ring and golden wedding band intercepted her, picking up the bag. Annabelle looked up; it was the young woman who had been with him a year ago at the Leaky Cauldron. Sirius had identified her as his brother's fiancée, but apparently she was now his wife.

Straightening, Annabelle took the bag from the woman's outstretched hand. "Thank you."

By then, Alice had approached the register, sending a worried look to Annabelle as the cashier rung up her parchment.

"I'm sorry," Annabelle said to Regulus. "I mistook you for someone else. I didn't mean to disturb-"

Alice took her bag from the cashier, strode over to Annabelle, and took her arm, guiding her to the door, but before they could exit, a deep voice intoned behind them, "You mistook me for my brother."

Annabelle froze, her bag clutched to her chest. Turning back to face him, she nodded vigorously. "Yes - I did. He's just across the way, if you want to…" She trailed off as Regulus looked down at the floor, shaking his head. He seemed agitated, and his wife appeared increasingly uncomfortable.

"Best not to," he said, avoiding Annabelle's eyes. "I don't think now is a good time for family reunions." He turned to his wife. "Shall we be going?"

The woman hesitated as she shoved her hands inside her fur muffler, glancing remorsefully at Annabelle, then back to Regulus. "Yes, let's."

Frustration swelled inside of Annabelle. "But – he's your _brother_. You haven't seen him in over a year! I don't understand how you could-"

"And I don't _expect_ you to understand," he countered, his piercing stare betraying his steady voice. He took his wife by the arm and led her out of the shop. Annabelle and Alice exited after them, only to see Sirius standing in the middle of the pavement, watching his brother walk away. Annabelle's heart sank.

He turned to her. "Was coming to see what was taking you so long."

Annabelle stepped closer. "Sirius-"

"You saw him in there?"

"You could say that."

Rage twisted his face. "Did he say something to you? Because I'll go after him and I'll-"

"No, _no._ He wasn't rude at all. Not friendly either, but after what I did…"

"What did you do?" he asked.

"Yes, what _did_ you do?" echoed Alice, who had missed the first part of the encounter.

Annabelle gave Sirius a sheepish look. "I sort of mistook him for you. From behind you look identical! You could have been twins!"

"Oh god, I don't know if I want to hear this."

"Come on," she said as she linked her arm with his, hurrying him back to Fortescue's. "I'll explain once we're back at the castle."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Dinner had started five minutes ago, but Sirius stood outside the Great Hall, staring at his girlfriend in disbelief. "You _tickled_ my _brother_?"

"I already told you, I thought he was you!"

Laughter burst from him, and he doubled over, his eyes squeezed shut. "You tickled Regulus! Oh my god… I hope he tells my mother… Her head will explode!"

A breath of relief escaped Annabelle. He was handling it better than she'd thought he would. She wanted to skip the rest, because she couldn't bear to tell him Regulus had chosen to run away instead of facing Sirius, but he insisted on hearing all of it.

"Of course he left without seeing me," he said after she had finished telling him the rest of the story. "He wouldn't risk it getting back to Mother and Father. Then he'd have some explaining to do."

"Or maybe he thought you wouldn't want to see him," she offered, grasping for a less hurtful reason why Regulus would reject him again.

"He would be correct in that case. I don't want to see him. But nah," he said, shaking his head. "I don't think he cares either way. We weren't close, Annie. Not really. Even if I hadn't been disowned, he still wouldn't have come to say hello. He's a prat."

She didn't try to convince him otherwise, even though Regulus hadn't been entirely nasty about the run-in. Instead, he'd seemed as uncomfortable as she had been. He was a victim of that household, as well, so it was hard to judge him, since she would never fully comprehend the depths of dysfunction he and Sirius had lived through. But Sirius was coping the only way he could, by brushing it off. Forcing him to analyse his brother's actions would only cause him more pain.

"It's his loss, then," she said as she wrapped her arms round his neck, pulling his head to hers.

"I can't believe you tickled my brother," he said with a hint of a smile.

She grinned, her hands moving over his chest and to his sides. "I was meant to be tickling _you!_ " she said, pressing her fingers into his waist.

He jerked away, trying to grab her hands. "Stop now, or I will tickle you to the brink of madness."

"Oh you will, will you?"

She prodded his sides again, and he chuckled, swiping her hands away. "Don't try me, Annie. I will prevail."

"You don't scare me, Padfo-" Her words morphed into a squeal as he made good on his threat. She managed to break away, but he backed her into the wall and tickled her some more.

"I surrender!" she squeaked out. "You win... you win…"

He stopped, but kept his hands on her waist as he pressed his lips to hers. Tears were running down her cheeks from laughing so much, but his kiss steadied her.

When he pulled back to look at her, she slid her fingers over his cheeks and into his hair. "I love you," she said softly. "And I promise, I will always want to see you, and I will never walk away from you, no matter what."

He gazed at her for a moment, his arms tightening around her, and he kissed her again, only to stop a few seconds later when the sound of clacking heels halted nearby, followed by an exaggerated throat-clearing.

Turning, they were met with Professor McGonagall's steely regard. No words were needed; her pursed lips and rigid stance were enough to send them hurrying into the Great Hall.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

When Alice broke the news to everyone else at dinner that she was entering Auror training early, Lily didn't react the way she had anticipated.

"Maybe you should think about it a bit more."

"I agree," said Peter.

Alice was hurt. "I've been thinking about it for years. Did you think I didn't mean it when I said I wanted to be an Auror?"

Lily put down her knife and fork, and gripped the napkin on her lap. "No, of course I believed you. But I didn't think it would happen so soon."

"It's only six months early. And they're not going to send me after Death Eaters next week. The first part of training is done at the Ministry." When Lily didn't respond, Alice said, "I hoped you would be happy for me."

"I am," said Lily, "but can't I be worried as well?"

Instead of responding, Alice stabbed at a pea that kept escaping her fork.

In an attempt to convince Alice to reconsider, Lily blurted out, "James said an Auror was brought into Emergency today. The dark wizard who blew up the factory cursed his eye clear out of his head."

Alice looked up sharply. "Which Auror?"

James wiped his mouth with his napkin and said, "A really brawny, tall wizard. Right noisy, he was. He was fine though, didn't even seem to mind he'd lost an eye. Said he'd get a better one, whatever that means."

"Was he Scottish?"

"Yep."

"Alastor Moody. Frank went with him to the factory. So did Phyllis's sister."

"Neither of them were brought in," said James, trying to ease her worry, "so I reckon they're all right."

The atmosphere was thick with tension, and no one said a word until Johnny B. broke the silence.

"Minister Minchum's wife came into my mum's salon today. She whinged about everything. _The water's too hot. You're being too rough. My neck hurts. The shampoo is too aromatic."_

"Too aromatic?" laughed Remus.

"Maybe she was getting ready for a date," said Peter. "I heard she's having an affair with some Astrologist from Edinburgh."

"Where did you hear _that?"_ asked Johnny B.

"There was a rather loud conversation about it today at the office. They seem to think interns are deaf. Wouldn't shut up about it, actually."

"Because office rumours are so reliable," said Remus.

"Where there's smoke, there's fire," replied Peter. He shoved a forkful of roast chicken into his mouth. "Not that I care."

Everyone fell silent again. No attempt at light-hearted conversation would be successful that evening, Annabelle realised. She glanced at her friends, their faces drawn and sapped of their usual good humour. If things continued the way they were going, she wondered if the laughter would cease altogether. There would be nothing left to smile about if Voldemort got his way.

There would be nothing left at all.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

After dinner, they rushed back to the common room, hoping to catch the dissident programme Veritas on the wireless. It was the only source of accurate news, considering the Prophet was censoring the truth. According to Remus, one of the paper's major backers was an extremely wealthy pureblood called Porcius Nott, who was Mona Nott's uncle. He had made several threats over the last few years to withhold finances if the paper continued printing salacious reports that denigrated public figures, which meant he would only continue his support if they stopped showing Voldemort for what he really was. Lately, whenever an honest piece of journalism regarding Voldemort was slipped in to the paper, meetings were called, threats were made, and people were sacked.

James turned the dial on the wireless, searching for Veritas, since it wasn't always broadcast on the same frequency to avoid being tracked. When he found it, Lux was reporting on the factory explosion. They spread out on the floor and listened.

**"According to a source inside the Ministry, the perpetrators were a father-son duo, Gerald Avery Sr. and Gerald Avery Jr. of Ibbiton Cross. Avery Sr. is in custody, but his son is still at-large. We do have confirmation from our source they are indeed Death Eaters. That's right, ladies and gentleman, Lord Voldemort, who many believe to be the saviour of Wizardkind, sanctioned an attack on a factory filled with Wizards. Mercury and I would like to know how he plans to save witches and wizards when he's too busy killing them."**

Lux was aggravated, her distorted voice growing sharper as she spoke. Annabelle loved it when she got worked up, because what was happening was worth being outraged over, and Lux's rants confirmed it for all of them.

 **"Also,"** said Mercury, **"sources tell us Voldemort has been recruiting underage wizards into his organisation. You heard me correctly, folks. He wants your children, and if that isn't enough for you to realise this tyrant's mission, then I'm afraid there's no hope for humani-"**

The programme cut off, replaced by static.

"I don't know who Mercury and Lux are," said Peter, "but they have some massive bollocks."

"Lux is a woman," said Phyllis, who had taken a seat next to Caradoc. "You can tell, despite the distortion."

"Really, Phyllis?" scoffed Peter in a sarcastic voice. "So glad you cleared that up for me or else I never would have known."

"No need for that," said Caradoc, scowling at Peter. "She was just statin' the facts."

Annabelle glanced at Caradoc, his freckly cheeks a mottled pink. Phyllis pouted beside him, her eyes fixed on the floor. A second later, she heard Phyllis mutter "thanks" to him.

"I think she means one doesn't require _bollocks_ to be daring," said Alice, glaring at Peter, and Phyllis nodded her approval.

"Yeah, this is 1978, for Circe's sake," said Lily. "Stop equating nerve with being male."

Peter looked to his fellow Marauders for support, but Remus said with a chuckle, "Don't look at us. You dug this hole for yourself, mate."

"All right all right!" snapped Peter. "I get it. Bad word choice. All I meant was they're really brave to be reporting all this stuff that the Ministry and Voldemort want kept secret."

"I wanna know who their source is," said James. "Someone in the Ministry is also quite brave."

"Could be any number of people," said Annabelle. "My department is full of people who want Voldemort to fail."

"Mine, too," said Alice.

"Mine, three," said Peter.

Sirius leaned back on his hands, crossing his legs in front of him. "Mercury and Lux are the only ones speaking out about it, though. I wonder if we know them, and just don't realise it."

Johnny B. shivered. "I got a chill when you said that."

They looked at each other warily, a bit excited by the thought.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So not much romance in this chapter, I know, but it lays a lot of groundwork for what's coming… rest assured, Valentine's Day is also coming, so fluffiness is headed your way!
> 
> Any predictions? I will not confirm nor deny anything, but I am curious to know your thoughts. :)


	15. A Matter of Taste

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jumper (UK) = sweater

Lily's eighteenth birthday was on Monday, and in light of James' loss, she had been reluctant to celebrate, making it known she wouldn't be sneaking out, or drinking copious amounts of liquor just because she could. But before breakfast that morning, James still managed to surprise her with a charmed snowglobe containing a mini Sacré-Cœur - a simple yet significant token of his affection.

"You never have to shake it," he said. "The snow doesn't stop falling."

She wiped a tear from her eye, the best memories of Paris rising to the forefront of her thoughts. Rosie had wanted them to cherish their memories of Paris, and not let her news stain the entire trip. It seemed James was keen on honouring her wishes, and Lily was glad. Up until the final morning in the hotel, it had been the most magical holiday of her life.

She kissed him softly. "I love it."

"Good. And I got you this as well." He pulled a rectangular box from inside his robe, and she eyed him suspiciously as she took it. "What?" he asked. "You thought all I got you for your eighteenth birthday was a hunk of plastic?"

"It's a beautiful hunk of plastic."

"Just open it."

She tore the paper off, and inside the box was a charm bracelet, with three charms already attached.

"A broomstick," he said, pointing to the first charm. "You know, since you're a witch. Big Ben, for London, and the Eiffel Tower for Paris."

"When did you get this?"

"I ordered it from a shop in Diagon Alley a week ago. It will never tarnish or break, and I will buy you more charms for it whenever you like. They make them for all sorts of occasions."

She didn't know why she was getting so choked up; perhaps because despite his own personal turmoil over the last month, he had thought of her.

"Merlin, this is extravagant. You needn't have done this for me."

"But I wanted to. I've been saving up for it, and it makes me happy to give it to you. Wait… you don't like it-"

"Yes, I do!" she assured him. "It's perfect. It's exactly what I'd pick for myself. Will you help me put it on?"

"You're not just saying that are you?" he asked as he fumbled with the clasp. "Because I can always exchange it-"

"I'm not just saying it. It's stunning." She held up her wrist, watching as the charms caught the light. "And you picked the best charms already. I must say, you have impeccable taste."

'Why thank you," he said, as he slung an arm round her shoulders. "Oh, and I know you don't want a big celebration, but Izzy will be making you a cake, assisted by Caradoc himself."

"Aww, I look forward to it."

"You deserve so much more."

"I'm touched you think so, but you're the best gift. Nothing could top you."

His hazel eyes remained fixed on her, and she smiled bashfully, not looking away. Then his lips touched hers, and for the first time in weeks, he kissed her with the passion she'd come to expect from him. She knew he would be grieving for a long time to come, but slowly, the pieces of his broken spirit were wedging their way back into place, allowing him to take those first arduous steps forward. And she was grateful he trusted her to help him through it.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Dumbledore finally lifted the ban on Hogsmeade the weekend before Valentine's Day. He must have sensed the restlessness around him; fights were breaking out far more than they usually did, the younger students were pulling more pranks, and the atmosphere at meal times was unruly to say the least.

Some students had lost permission to go, because their parents were worried about the Voldemort situation. Some chose to stay behind, thinking they would be safer in their common rooms than in the village. Peter was the only Gryffindor who willingly stayed behind, still terrified of being Voldemort's next victim.

Unfortunately, Annabelle was not able to go either. Hester Tullet, who usually took the Saturday shift in the library, had requested the day off so she might go to Hogsmeade. It came down to Annabelle and Wallace Pye, and Annabelle had put in less time than him, so she got stuck with library duty.

"Don't have too much fun without me," she grumbled to Sirius as they were leaving.

"Let me talk some sense into old Wiggly. Why does she need you when half the school will be in Hogsmeade?"

"She's getting older, and she needs help dealing with the younger students. They're right helpless, always wanting someone to find books for them instead of looking themselves."

"Then I'll stay behind," he said, his arms slipping round her waist. "You can say you're shelving books on the second floor. Nip into a storage cupboard with me."

His eyebrows moved suggestively, and Annabelle let out a laugh. "Go to Hogsmeade. You need to get out."

He tugged her closer. "All right. I'll go, but I won't enjoy it."

Pulling his face to hers, she kissed him hard enough to elicit a satisfied moan from him. They staggered round a corner, flush against each other, their lips never parting. "You're making it rather difficult for me to leave," he breathed. "This is far more exciting than Hogsmeade."

"Mmm," she said against his lips as his hands began roaming. "Don't leave."

They made their way further down the empty corridor, kissing like he was going away forever instead of for an afternoon, but soon, James' voice was heard.

"Where did they go?" he asked.

"Dunno," said a voice which sounded like Lily's.

"Sirius?" James called, his voice indicating he was getting closer, and it took a herculean effort for Sirius and Annabelle to wrench themselves apart.

James and Lily rounded the corner, stopping when they saw them standing together.

"Oh, there you are," said James. "Still coming?"

Sirius looked at Annabelle, and she nodded to him, giving his hand a squeeze. "He is."

"I'm going to walk her to the library," said Sirius. "Meet you outside."

"We'll join you," said Lily. "The corridors will be rather empty on your way back and Frank said no one is to go off alone. That includes you, Sirius."

"Let's hurry," urged James, "before Dumbledore changes his mind about letting us out."

When they reached the library, Sirius gave Annabelle a quick peck goodbye and one last, lingering look.

"Don't go back to the Tower alone," he said as he backed away from her, his hands shoved in his pockets.

"I won't." Then she mouthed the words, _I love you._

 _I love you, too,_ he mouthed back.

"Have fun shelving books with Wiggly!" called James from the stairwell.

"Thanks, prat! I will!"

She grinned, but as their laughter faded into the distance, disappointment began to set in. Every one of her friends would be in Hogsmeade, and she was stuck at school, dealing with incompetent underclassmen and a tetchy librarian. Inside, she found Madam Wigworthy, who had a list of tasks for her. It included the one task she hoped never to be assigned – spraying for Doxies. She decided to save it for last.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The fire was warm at The Three Broomsticks, and as soon as the group of older, distinguished wizards, dressed in colourful robes and tall, pointed hats, vacated the table closest to it, the boys claimed the coveted spot, scrambling for it before the seventh-year Ravenclaws could get it.

"Victorious!" crowed Caradoc, shaking a fist into the air before righting a chair he'd knocked over in the race for the table.

"They thought they had a chance," said Sirius, laughing as the defeated Ravenclaws retreated to a table by the door.

"I don't know why," said James, "because they didn't."

Lily and Alice were used to the boys' competitiveness, but it never ceased to amuse them, and they smiled, rolling their eyes a little. They squeezed in round the table together, glad to be out of the cold. Claire had joined them, as well as Phyllis Meadowes, who was growing on them, despite the bows in her hair and her Pygmy Puff pocketbook. She was always surprising them. Just when they thought she couldn't be anymore babyish, she would be nicking smutty books from Lorelei, or threatening to hex the Slytherins. She was interesting to say the least.

Before long, Frank joined them, followed by Fairfax, who was all pink-cheeked smiles as he greeted them and pulled a chair over.

"Annabelle is going to be gutted she missed you," said Lily. "She had to work."

"I can swing by the castle later with you lot to say hello… and share the news."

"News?" Johnny B. asked.

"The Beater for the Kestrals is suspended for the next three games. Got caught using a strengthening potion. So… yours truly gets to play."

The boys reacted with excitement, not to mention twinges of envy as they congratulated their friend.

"We'll have to come to a match," said Lily. "Maybe we can get permission, so we won't have to chance it."

"I'd love it if you all could be there," he said.

"Oh, we're definitely going to a match," said James. "By any means necessary. No way am I missing this."

A bit later, they ventured out into the cold, dispersing as they went into different shops. Sirius, James, and Remus were about to head into Spintwitches to check out the latest in racing brooms when they noticed a little boy in ragged clothes, seated in front of the shop. There was a basket beside him, a remnant of a ratty quilt lining it.

The boys dug into their pockets and walked over to the kid, placing some galleons and sickles in the basket. James jumped back when the quilt moved, and a tiny calico kitten peeked its head out.

"Fuck," James said, who liked cats slightly more than Annabelle liked Doxies. "Sorry. Didn't realise."

"S'all right," the boy replied as he gathered the money and shoved it into a coin purse. "Want a kitten? Me mum told me not to come home 'til the last one was gone. We can't afford to have all these cats runnin' about, she said. Told me to set it loose if I had to, but he's only a baby, like."

"What'd you do with the others?" Remus asked hesitantly, not sure he wanted to know.

"People took 'em. Cheaper than buyin' em, I reckon."

"We can spread the word for you," said James, "Someone's bound to want it."

"Calico cats are good luck," said the boy. "Sure you don't want it?"

"Positive," said James. It wasn't that he was afraid of it, but few intelligent wizards believed in the luck of cats, bad or good. And his distaste for them had nothing to do with his mum's flu, because everyone knew cats were not the cause of it, unlike in the Dark Ages when they chose to blame all sickness and misfortune on black cats. He just wasn't keen on cats. Never had been.

The boy shivered from the cold, and the cat let out a tiny mewl. Sirius bent down and placed a hand over it. It was trembling. "May I?" he asked, and the boy nodded.

The kitten squeaked as Sirius scooped it from the basket and cradled it to his chest. Its tiny eyes were closed. James wrinkled his nose, but Remus leaned in to pet it.

"I'll take it," said Sirius, digging into his pocket for more money.

"He's free," said the boy, but Sirius dropped the coins into the boys' hand.

"Take this for yourself, then. Go get a hot meal and a proper coat with it."

"Cheers, sir!" the boy exclaimed, getting to his feet and grabbing his basket. He ran off down the high street, headed straight for Honeydukes.

James sighed. "Can't blame him, really. I'd have done the same thing. What are you going to do with it?"

"Give it to Annie, of course. What do I want with a bloody cat?"

"I was gonna say, I thought you were more of a dog person."

Sirius smirked. "Well played. Anyway, I think she'll like it. If not, I'm sure Phyllis will take it off our hands."

"Poor little thing," said Remus. "He looks cold."

Sirius undid the top buttons on his coat, and positioned the kitten inside. Holding it in place with one hand, he motioned for the door. "After you, lads."

Remus suppressed a grin, and James shook his head as they entered the shop.

"Just when ya think you know a lad… he goes all cat-person on ya."

"I'm hardly a cat-person, Prongs. Like I said, it's not mine."

"Whatever you say. Just keep it out of our room. Don't want it shitting in my bed."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

" _Ick_ ," Annabelle muttered, grabbing the doxicide from the broom cupboard. Her shift was almost over, and once she finished with this last gruesome task, she was free.

With a mask covering her nose and mouth, and the spray bottle and bucket in hand, she made her way upstairs to the large window, its heavy curtains a favourite hang-out spot for Doxies. She took a deep breath and braced herself. When she was about to begin, a first-year boy walked past, and she lowered her arm, warning him, "I'm about to spray for Doxies, so you might want to get out of here."

He dashed away, presumably as frightened of the disgusting little pests as she was. She raised the bottle again, and she saw one poke its hairy little face out from behind the curtain. "So foul," she groaned with a shudder, then whispered to it, "Please don't bite me."

Why would anyone give this rotten job to a student, she thought bitterly. But Madam Wigworthy could barely make it up the stairs anymore, and Annabelle didn't want to be a spoilt brat complaining about it. With any luck, she would be old as well one day, and would hope for some compassion from those stronger than herself. She raised her arm to get the task over with, when she heard a sound coming from a few bookcases over. Sniffling. Someone was crying.

Following the sound, Annabelle's heart gave a throb when she came upon Zelda, sitting on the floor, her face in her hands as she shook with the force of her weeping.

"Zelda? What's the matter?" she asked, kneeling beside her. "Why are you alone? Were you cursed?"

Zelda uncovered her face, her cheeks red and wet, and cried out, "I want to go home!"

"All right," said Annabelle. She pulled her mask down, then shifted to a seated position and put an arm round the sobbing girl. "But can you tell me why?"

"Because I hate it here!"

"Okay, we're making progress. Why do you hate it here?"

"I have no friends."

"That's not true, you have loads of friends. I've seen them with my own eyes. What about Twyla? She's your best friend, isn't she?"

Zelda pouted. "Not anymore. She's a _traitor_."

"Twyla?" Annabelle asked in disbelief. "Are you sure it's not a misunderstanding?"

"She told Brogan Travers I fancy him!" she wailed, more tears falling. "And when I asked her why she did it, she said because Ingrid Cooper told her to!"

"Why would Ingrid Cooper tell her to do that?"

"Because Ingrid fancies him as well!"

Annabelle turned the information over in her mind, trying to get in touch with her inner twelve-year-old. But it didn't make sense to her.

"If Ingrid fancies him, why would she want Brogan to know you do as well?"

"So she could stand there and laugh when Twyla told him. Laugh like I'm some kind of eejit, so he'd be put off by me. I was right there when she blabbed, and Ingrid called me a weirdo!"

"And what did you say?"

"I denied it. I said I didn't fancy anyone at the moment! I was _so_ embarrassed. Why would Twyla stab me in the back?"

How could Annabelle explain that Twyla wasn't the swiftest pixie without openly labelling her daft?

"I reckon she wasn't thinking. Did she apologise?"

"No."

"And what was Brogan's reaction to all of this?"

"Nothing, he just sort of stood there. Like maybe he thought the lot of us were stupid."

"I think you should talk to her. Ask her why she would give away your secret. Tell her how much it hurt you."

"What's the point? They're probably all in the common room having a big laugh over me."

"Right, then. Let's find out."

Zelda looked up at Annabelle. "You-you want to go now?"

"Sure. No sense in putting it off. Let's go."

"Oh," said Zelda, a bit hesitantly. "But what if they laugh at me more?"

Annabelle stood up. "If they laugh, you can be sure I'll give them a reason to stop."

Zelda smiled weakly, and got to her feet.

"One second," said Annabelle. "I have to spray the curtains for doxies."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"So, will you come home with me?" asked Claire. "Have dinner with my family next Sunday? My mum is dying to have you over again."

Remus held her hand. They were on their way back to Hogwarts, hoping to get some time together before everyone else returned. She had asked him twice since September if he would come for dinner, but something always came up, saving him from it.

Her mother was a painter, and rather well-known in the magical art community for her abstract technique. She could make the colours continually merge with each other, as though the strokes of paint crawled and danced together while the image itself remained unbroken. Her father was a well-respected Arithmancer based in Diagon Alley. Claire was the baby of the family - seven years younger than her brother and ten years younger than her sister. As a result, she wasn't close to either of them, but she still enjoyed seeing them when they came round her parents' house.

It wasn't that Remus didn't want to have dinner with them. He had met them once before when he picked her up for Matthew's birthday festivities, and though he found them a bit strange, they were nice enough. And he wanted to get to know them better and feel like he belonged. But what he wanted made no difference, because he couldn't tell them the whole truth about himself. He felt like a fraud. Like the big bad wolf disguised in human clothing, luring their little Claire away so he could devour her.

"Please, Remus?" she begged. "My brother's coming with his fiancée, and my sister and her husband will be there. I'd love to have you along."

"I don't know. The full moon-"

"Will have been five days before! I checked…"

"Oh. Right. By five days I should be fine, then."

She peered at him, searching his face. "Does that mean… you'll come with me?"

He couldn't bear to tell her why he was hesitant. She had told him countless times his Lycanthropy didn't trouble her, but she understood how ignorant others could be, and had promised to keep his secret. When he was with her, he felt whole and good about himself, as if he wasn't a walking horror show. But with people who didn't know him, it was different story.

"You're not planning on telling them…" he asked, "…what I really am… are you?"

She smiled in a confused way. "But they already know."

Remus stopped dead, his face blooming with colour. " _What_? You _told_ them? Claire, how – how could you? When did you-"

She giggled, and gripped his arms. "Remus, relax," she whispered. "I didn't tell them about your Lycanthropy."

He tried to catch his breath. "Merlin, did you have to scare me like that?"

"Sorry, but you asked if I was going to tell them what you really are. What are you, Remus? Really? And don't say werewolf."

He bowed his head, then looked at her sheepishly. "I see where you're going with this."

"It should be the first thing you see when you look in the mirror. A handsome… intelligent… kind-hearted lad. And I am so in love with him I can't think straight. The rest is irrelevant."

"Not sure it's irrelevant."

"As far as my family's concerned it is. Everyone has something about themselves they want to keep private, don't they? But if you want me to tell them, I will. Just in case you think I'm embarrassed or something. Because I'm not."

"Let's not tell them. They might not react the way you hope."

"There is nothing they could say to change how I feel about you. Nothing. But it's honestly none of their business."

He kissed her forehead, and she closed her eyes, smiling. He knew she meant well, but in the future, if he couldn't hold down a job, or Merlin forbid he got her pregnant… they would make his Lycanthropy their business. Claire was an idealist and a dreamer, and he loved that about her, but reality had an awful way of waking dreamers, a lesson he had learnt when he was only four-years-old.

"I'll go with you," he said.

She flung her arms round his neck and he lifted her off the ground in a hug. He would hold off reality as long as humanly possible for her. And for himself, as well, because he loved her, and he wanted to be happy for as long as he could.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Sodding little _monster,_ " Annabelle complained, a hand over her cheek as she stormed though the corridors. Zelda walked beside her, trying to keep up. "I knew he was planning to bite me when he looked me straight in eyes."

"Um… you _were_ about to squirt him," said Zelda. "It was self-defence."

"I was only following orders!" cried Annabelle. She burst through the hospital wing doors. "And he got away didn't he? He should have been celebrating, not sinking his poisonous teeth into me."

After drinking the antidote for doxy venom, Madam Pomfrey put a dab of dittany on the bite, and told her to never make eye contact with a doxy again, because they take it as a threat. Then it was back to their mission, to find out why Twyla was being a shitty friend to Zelda.

When Annabelle saw Twyla sitting awkwardly among Ingrid Cooper and her mates, she beckoned with her finger.

"Twyla. We need to have a chat."

Twyla shot an accusatory glare at Zelda, but she stood up. Ingrid whispered something to another girl and smirked at Zelda, but Zelda only hung her head.

"And _you_ ," Annabelle said to Ingrid, "wipe the smirk off your face, or I'm going to report you to McGonagall."

"For what?" she sneered. "I didn't do anything."

"I doubt she'll see it that way."

Ingrid scowled and turned away, but Twyla followed Annabelle and Zelda out onto the landing.

After the portrait was closed, Annabelle turned to Twyla. "Now, what's this rubbish about you broadcasting your best friend's secret crush to the universe?"

Twyla pouted and shrugged.

"So you don't deny it, then?"

She shook her head no.

Annabelle was incredulous. "Well… did something happen to make you want to hurt your best friend?"

Twyla's eyes darted to Zelda, then back to Annabelle. "Ingrid… she um…"

"Go on, spit it out."

"She told me if I didn't help her, she'd tell everyone… she'd tell everyone…"

"She'd tell them what, Twyla. What?"

Tears spilled down her cheeks. "That I fancy Sirius!" she blurted out. "But I never _said_ that!"

Zelda gasped as her hands flew over her mouth.

"Calm down, Twyla," said Annabelle. "I can hardly understand you."

Twyla took a deep, tremulous breath, and continued. "All I said was he's the fittest lad in Gryffindor. And she said would tell him, and _you…_ and I would have to _leave school!_ "

Annabelle's brow furrowed as she crossed her arms over herself. She chewed her lip for a moment while the two twelve-year-olds waited in fear of her reaction. Twyla sniffled and cried, while Zelda nervously rocked on her heels.

"What a brat she is," said Annabelle.

Twyla stopped crying. "W-what did you say?"

"Yeah, what did you say?" said Zelda.

"I said she's a brat. A manipulative little brat."

"So, you're not angry with me?" asked Twyla.

"About which part?"

"What I said about your boyfriend."

"Why would I be angry about that? You and Zelda told me you thought he was attractive, remember? The Christmas before last?"

Twyla frowned deeply, the gears turning in her brain, then she brightened. "Oh yeah! We did!"

"And you were only stating the truth, so I'd be a fool to be angry."

"You won't tell him, will you? I'd die."

"I haven't yet, have I? But it doesn't mean Ingrid won't. You do realise you hurt Zelda in the same way Ingrid threatened to hurt you?"

"I do now."

"Just promise you'll both stop telling everyone your secrets and letting people push you around."

"All right," Twyla agreed, then looked at Zelda with remorseful eyes. "I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have betrayed you, even if it was to protect myself."

Zelda pursed her lips, her arms crossed in a huff. There was a moment's pause while she made Twyla stew, but finally, she said, "I'll forgive you. But next time, tell me what she's plotting before you go humiliating me."

"There won't be a next time. I won't trust her again."

"Neither will I."

"Great," said Annabelle. "Are we all set here? You're back to being a united front?"

"Yes, we are," answered Zelda, and then she hugged Twyla, who looked like she needed it.

When they returned to the common room, Brogan was sitting at a study table with some other boys, playing cards, completely oblivious to Ingrid and her pals. _Looks about right,_ Annabelle thought as she continued to the girls' stairs.

Ingrid grinned deviously, her glare set on Twyla. "Did you tell her who you fancy, Twyla?" she announced to the room.

Annabelle stopped. "She did, and all I can say is, she has excellent taste."

The portrait opened, and Annabelle could almost hear Twyla's stomach drop as the seventh-years filed in, rowdy and preoccupied with each other. She wondered if Ingrid had the nerve to talk to Sirius in front of his mates. When Annabelle was twelve, it would have been unthinkable to stir up drama with the oldest and most popular boys in Gryffindor, especially with their girlfriends present.

"Twyla fancies you, Sirius!" she called out, then turned away, giggling with her friends. Some people insisted on learning the hard way.

Twyla turned beet red, but Sirius barely registered what was said. Nobody did, probably because they weren't paying any attention to her. Not one of them so much as glanced at her. But as Sirius made his way to where Annabelle stood, he noticed Twyla, her face horror-stricken, and he patted her head.

"All right, Twyla?" he asked her as he passed.

Ingrid glowered and abruptly look away. _Thwarted,_ Annabelle thought, satisfied with how it all played out.

"Child minding, are you?" Sirius asked Annabelle, but before she could answer, he put a hand on her cheek where the doxy bit her. "What's this?"

"Doxy got me. Nasty little bug, looked right at me, then tried to kill me."

His exhaled in relief, and then choked back a laugh.

"It _attacked_ me, you understand? Swooped down and plunged it's razor teeth into my flesh."

"God, that _is_ awful," he said, a chuckle escaping him as he tucked her hair behind her ear. "It's an absolute outrage."

She smiled in spite of herself. "It was. I know it's not like being cursed, but it hurt."

He kissed her cheek next to the spot of dittany. "Next time I see the little wanker, he's going to pay."

Annabelle laughed, and after another kiss, on the lips this time, she noticed his hand hadn't moved from his chest. "What have you got there," she said, motioning toward the lump in his coat.

"I'll show you in a minute. Let me run upstairs first."

After he left, she did a double take when she saw Fairfax in the common room. "It _is_ you!" she exclaimed as she made her way over to him. "I didn't know you were coming today! Now I'm extra ticked off I missed it."

He gave her a hug. "Which is why I stopped by."

"And McGonagall let you?"

"Course she did. She knows I'm not the one going round cursing everyone."

"So you heard."

"Yep, and honestly, I'm not surprised. We all know what they're like, so be careful. Times are changing and you can't come and go as you please anymore."

"Says Fairfax Hood."

"I know, it sounds hypocritical, but the carefree days are over, I'm afraid, and you have to be wise. Too many ignorant fools running about."

"You sound like Frank Longbottom," said Johnny B.

"And he's an Auror, so you should probably listen to him."

"Where's Mary?" asked Annabelle, not wanting to hear anymore of Fairfax's warnings. They weren't children anymore, and she was tired of people who were only a year or two older than them treating them as such.

"She had to go with an agent to show a flat to some prospective buyers. Part of her training and all. Said to say hello to everyone and she'll see you next time."

Then he broke the news to Annabelle that he would be playing Beater in three consecutive professional matches.

Annabelle squealed. "This is amazing! I hope we can see you play! Gosh, I can't believe I get to say I'm your former teammate."

"There's something else," he whispered. He pulled her aside, away from the crowd of students filling the common room. "I didn't tell anyone except Doc and Johnny yet, but I bought a ring for Mary. I'm waiting til after the matches to ask her, so I can take her somewhere romantic."

Annabelle's hand flew over her mouth. "To ask her- to marry you?"

"No, to ask her to make me a cup of tea. Of course to marry me, silly!

Annabelle flung her arms around him. "This is great news! I know she'll say yes."

Fairfax laughed in his easy way. "I tend to think she will as well, but you never know."

"She adores you. She's going to accept." Annabelle could hardly contain her delight. "You're my first friend to be getting married! This is so exciting!"

A few minutes later, Sirius was back. He had taken off his coat, but was now holding a jumper over his chest. He winked as he took her hand, leading her out of the common room.

"Why are you holding a jumper?" she asked him once they were alone.

"Come closer, and see for yourself."

She sent him a dubious look, but stepped forward, looking down at it. Still holding the jumper with one hand, he pulled back a portion of it. A tiny face popped its head out.

Annabelle gasped, stepping back, a hand over her mouth. "A kitten! Who does it belong to?"

"You, if you like."

She gave him an astonished look and stepped close again, slowly lifting the kitten from his chest. "Where did you get it?"

"A little boy was giving them away in Hogsmeade. This was the last one, and he said his mum told him if someone didn't take it, he would have to let it go. Can you believe that?"

"Ah, Sirius, just when I think you can't get any sweeter," she said, beaming at him. Then she held the kitten up in both hands, brushing its fuzzy head against her uninjured cheek. "Hello there. Aren't you a little pumpkin?"

Sirius was relieved she was keen on it instead of put off like James was. She sat down on the top step, the kitten in her lap, and Sirius sat down beside her.

"What about food and a litter box?" she asked.

"Covered. The litter box is charmed to clean itself, so all you have to do is shove it under your bed and forget about it."

"You thought of everything."

"Except a name, which I'll leave up to you. Just don't name it after a star or a constellation or anything like that. Deal?"

She chuckled. "Deal. Although Sirius Padfoot O'Neill Black has a nice ring to it. Sounds royal."

"Annie. Don't even joke."

"Fine, even though I love your name."

"It's a cat. Name it Patches or Whiskers or something equally prosaic."

She ran her finger over the kitten's head, watching as it closed its eyes. "Thank you," she said, "for thinking of me."

He grinned almost shyly at her, pleased he had made her happy. She seemed to have forgot all about her encounter with the Doxy, whom he would be more than willing to track down and spray the next time he was in the library.

"I'm always thinking of you."

She looked at him as though he had said something extraordinary instead of a simple truth. Then she kissed him gently on the lips, and rested her head on his shoulder, while the kitten purred sleepily in her lap. He wanted this forever, this peace, and this love, and he wouldn't let the darkness steal it away from him. Not as long as he lived and breathed.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

After getting the kitten sorted, Annabelle got ready for bed. She had just got comfortable, and so had the kitten on her chest, when Lily came into the room and sat down on Annabelle's bed.

"Hey," she whispered, careful not to disturb her roommates. "Feel like sleeping in the boys' room tonight?"

Annabelle raised an eyebrow. "Why do you ask?"

Lily's cheeks burned. "Because… James asked me to," she said, then immediately clarified, "Just to sleep of course… and maybe I'm being ridiculous, but I don't want to be the only girl in there."

"No, you're not being ridiculous. But the kitten. I can't leave it alone its first night here."

"So bring it along. The boys won't mind."

The girls eased their way into the boys' room, shutting the door behind them. Remus and Peter's bed curtains were drawn, but James and Sirius were both propped up on their pillows, wide awake and reading Quidditch magazines. The room was dark save for a few candles hovering over their beds. The boys knew Lily and Annabelle had arrived, since they had seen the door open and close, but the girls attempted to frighten them anyway by waiting until they were between their beds to whip off the cloak.

"Did we scare you?" asked Lily.

James and Sirius exchanged amused looks.

"Um, sure," said James. "Yeah. Terrified us, actually."

"I'm still shaking," added Sirius.

"Plonkers," said Lily as she sat down on the edge of James' bed.

James snorted a laugh, and the sound of it made Lily smile. Laughter had been a rare sound that winter, from any of them, but most of all from James.

"You brought the cat. Great," he said, shooting daggers at Sirius with his eyes.

"You won't even know it's here," said Sirius, taking the kitten from Annabelle and settling it in a wadded up t-shirt at the foot of his bed. "Promise."

James nose wrinkled. "Where's its toilet?"

Sirius aimed his wand at the floor, and a second later, a rudimentary box with a scattering of sand appeared. "That should do."

"Well done," said Lily, staring at him in disbelief. "You're conjuring skills are coming along nicely."

He gave a modest shrug. "It's not that difficult, really. Not like casting a Patronus or a Self-Concealment Charm."

"Or a Cruciatus Curse," muttered James.

There was an awkward silence, which Sirius filled. "Right. Nowhere near as difficult as that."

Lily squeezed James' hand, and he met her eyes. "Goodnight," she said to Annabelle. "Don't leave without me in the morning?"

"I won't. Goodnight."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

After saying good night to Lily, Annabelle turned to Sirius. His eyes reflected the candlelight, and she was transfixed.

"Hello, again," she said.

"Hello. Make yourself at home."

"You don't mind then?"

"Eh. Not really. You're already here, so you might as well stay."

She pouted, but he pulled her into his arms, kissing her face all over.

"Do I mind," he said with a laugh. "Have you gone mad?"

"I didn't think you would."

"This is the only way I want to end the day." His hand slid over her hip, dragging her nightgown up with it. "In bed with you."

"Hold on," she whispered, stopping his hand. "We can't. Not with four other people outside the curtain."

"You make it sound like they're camped out round the bed."

She ran her fingertips across his forehead. "You know what I mean."

"Still too weird?"

"It will always be too weird. Not to mention the kitten in bed with us. We don't want to scandalise the poor thing. Or accidentally knock it to the floor."

Sirius released her nightgown and gave her hip a pat. "How many months until school finishes?"

"Approximately five."

He closed his eyes and sighed. "That is far too many."

Snuggling up to him, she ran her hand over his neck and into his hair, giving the back of his head a scratch. His eyes opened, and he watched the candlelight dance across her face.

"At the very least, can I kiss you?" he asked.

She smiled, brushing the hair from his cheek. "Hmm, I think that'd be all right."

His lips pressed to hers, and despite knowing sex was not on the agenda, he was filled with so much wanting. His body ached at the warmth of her, her contours moulding to him, and her mouth on his as they breathed each other in.

It was all too much, so he ended the kiss, needing to calm himself down, and he turned over to his back in an effort to get his mind in sleep mode. She rested her forehead against his neck, her arm settling across his abdomen, which only stoked the fire inside of him, but soon he felt her melt into him, her breath evening out, and he knew she was asleep.

He remained awake for some time after, stroking her hair, absorbing the moment, and the contentment he felt when she slept in his arms. Before Annabelle, love was some confusing phenomenon other people experienced, and he had no genuine interest in it. Now, he couldn't imagine a life without it. How vulnerable she had made him, he thought; how exposed he was to the possibility of heartbreak, and yet, denying himself would be so much worse.

A moment later, a nameless kitten plodded up the bed and settled between them. Annabelle jumped slightly, the way one did when dreaming of falling, and Sirius kissed her forehead. Her eyes opened halfway, and she smiled up at him dreamily before drifting back to sleep. His heart nearly burst.


	16. Doubt

When Sirius awoke the next morning, he smiled, his hand finding Annabelle's cheek and hair. He snuggled up closer to her, but then it hit him. The kitten wasn't between them anymore. He sat up, flinging the bed curtains open, and patted the blankets with the hope they hadn't suffocated the thing in their sleep.

Annabelle opened her eyes. "What is it?"

"The kitten is missing."

"What?" she answered, sitting up and looking under the duvet. They hopped out of bed, getting to their knees and searching underneath, yet nothing was there but Sirius' shoes, a few dirty socks, and the make-shift litterbox.

Annabelle looked at Sirius from across the mattress. "Oh my god. Where could it be?"

Sirius rested an arm on the mattress and looked about the room. Remus' bed was made and empty, and James and Peter's curtains were still closed. He crawled over to Peter's bed and looked underneath, and Annabelle looked under James' bed. No kitten. After checking Remus' bed, Sirius stood up.

"Maybe it got out and it's in the common room, or it could have gone back to your room."

"Right, let's find out."

She was about to drape the cloak over herself when James' bed curtain opened partway. "Padfoot?"

Sirius hesitated, giving Annabelle a confused look. "Prongs?"

"Come get your cat."

Annabelle blew out a breath and followed Sirius to James' bedside. There was the kitten, curled round James' head, fast asleep. Lily was suppressing giggles, but let them out when Sirius coughed out a laugh.

Annabelle leaned over and picked up the kitten. "Sorry," she said, and sucked in her lips to avoid laughing as well.

With a straight face, Sirius said, "I think it thought your hair was a nest of some kind. Not a rat's nest, but a cat's nest."

Annabelle burst with giggles, and finally, James surrendered and cracked a smile.

"Should have got a picture," said Lily.

"Next time," said Sirius.

James rubbed his eyes, and reached for his glasses. "There had better not be a next time," he warned, but there was no ill-will in his voice. "Do you hear me, cat? This bed is off-limits to you."

The kitten squirmed in Annabelle's hands. "You hear him, kitty? No more hair nest for you," she said, then to Lily, "I'm taking it back to the room. Are you ready?"

Lily kissed James on the cheek, and joined Annabelle under the invisibility cloak.

"See you, later," Lily said before pulling the door closed behind them.

"I think you've got a new friend," said Sirius as he threw himself back onto his bed.

James rubbed his head where the kitten had been. "Not a chance."

Sirius smiled to himself. "At least it didn't shit in your bed."

James jerked around, inspecting his pillow and underneath it. When he was satisfied the cat hadn't done its business where he slept, he relaxed.

"If it had," he said, "you'd be wearing it."

"You'd have to scrape it from your hair, first."

Both boys snorted with laughter.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The following morning, Annabelle awoke in the same panic. The kitten, who had gone to sleep against her chest, was gone again. She looked in the most obvious places, but when it didn't turn up, she contemplated waking her roommates to see if it had sneaked in bed with them.

Instead, she decided to let them sleep and went down to the common room to look for it. Maybe someone had gone to loo in the night and left the door open.

It was still quite early, so she was surprised to find Johnny B. in front of the fire.

"What are you doing up?" she asked. "Did you run the stairs?"

"Nah. Couldn't sleep."

"Oh." She sat down beside him, and he continued to stare ahead. "Why so glum?"

He shrugged, his lower lip protruding slightly. "He wrote to me. Said he wants to forget about Spain and come home."

Of course it was about Matthew. She should have known.

"How come?"

"He said Sydney is brilliant and all, but he wants to wait on Spain until I can go as well. He said another five months is far too long."

"Well he's right you know."

Johnny B. pinched the bridge of his nose. "But things aren't getting better here, Annie. In fact, they're getting worse. I can't protect him when I'm here and he's in London. He's better off out of the country."

"But who knows how long this mess with Voldemort is going to continue? You can't keep him away indefinitely."

"I know, but the longer he's gone the safer he is." He shook his head wearily. "I feel so guilty though."

"Why?"

"Because the idea of him coming home makes me happier than I've been in ages."

"That's nothing to feel guilty for. You haven't seen him for months!"

"But I'm being selfish."

"No you're not. You told him not to change his plans for you. You encouraged him to go half way round the world, even though you would miss him desperately, because you wanted to keep him safe. That's the opposite of selfish."

He sunk a little farther down in the sofa. "I told him I would meet him in Spain after school finishes, but he's set on coming back."

Annabelle couldn't help it; she was rather excited at the prospect of having Matthew back as well.

"There's no reason to think he'll be hurt in any of this. And having a group of wizards and witches as friends might be advantage for him."

Johnny B. rested his head on her shoulder, and after a moment, he said, "It's nice being able to talk about him. I always feel weird talking about him with the lads. Except Fax. He loves giving advice to anyone who'll listen."

"Well, you can talk to me about Matthew all you want. Give me all the details."

"Merlin, you're nosy."

She chuckled, and jabbed him with her elbow. "You didn't happen to see the kitten anywhere, did you?"

"You lost your kitten? I hope this isn't a sign of your parenting skills…"

"Pets and children are not the same thing, and who says I want to be a parent?"

"You don't want to? Someday?"

"I don't know…maybe… maybe not. Someday could be a decade from now! You haven't seen the kitten?

"I haven't. But Sirius is going to be cross you lost his son."

"Oh my gosh, Johnny B.! A kitten is not a child, nor did I lose it! It will turn up." Johnny B. shook with laughter, and she jabbed him again. "Prat."

When Annabelle returned to her room, her roommates were awake, and Lily was holding the kitten.

"Where did you find the little stinker?"

Lily rubbed the kitten's back. "I woke up and there he was, burrowed under my covers."

"Maybe it doesn't like you, Annabelle," Lorelei sneered, her voice like sandpaper.

Annabelle shot her a look.

"Don't be silly," said Phyllis. "It probably got confused in the night. Don't worry, Annabelle. We'll all take care of it, together."

"Speak for yourself," said Lorelei. "I prefer not to have cat hair all over my things."

"A simple charm removes cat hair," retorted Phyllis.

"Still. It's her bloody cat. She can take care of it."

Annabelle glared at Lorelei. "Don't worry. I don't expect it will want to sleep with _you_ anyway." She almost added, _it probably thinks you're a bear, the way you snore,_ but she bit her tongue instead.

Lorelei grabbed her dressing gown and toiletries, and went to the door. "Doesn't appear to want to sleep with you, either," she said, before slamming the door shut behind her.

"Ignore her," said Phyllis. "I bet she sends animals fleeing in terror wherever she goes."

"And what Phyllis said about it getting confused is right," said Lily. "It probably got up to eat in the night, then forgot where you were."

Annabelle took the kitten from Lily and sat down with it, placing it on her lap. It blinked up at her, then put its head down. She exhaled in relief.

"See?" said Lily. "It likes you just fine."

The kitten opened its eyes at the sound of Lily's voice, but closed them again as Annabelle stroked its fur. Annabelle couldn't believe how ridiculous she had been, thinking a kitten could reject her. It seemed perfectly content at the moment.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The next morning, the cat was gone again. Annabelle's heart sank when she looked to Lily's bed and saw it snuggled up with her.

"Do you think there's something about me small animals find repellent?" she asked Sirius on the way to breakfast.

Sirius laughed. "No, I don't. I think it's surrounded by so many people all the time it doesn't know who it belongs to."

"Right. Sounds reasonable."

"Did you name it yet?"

"No. Can't think of anything. Phyllis says to call it Cupcake, but I don't think it looks like a Cupcake."

"Nah. It doesn't."

"Alice said to call it Pilliwickle, after the former head of Magical Law Enforcement - I guess they idolise him in her department - but it's a big name for such a little thing."

"It'll come to you."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The next morning, the cat was gone again, and this time it wasn't with Lily, or any of Annabelle's roommates. Annabelle rushed to the common room, relieved to find Sirius, seated in a chair by the fire with the cat in his lap.

"Did you find it here?" she asked.

"No. James found it, in his hair."

"Again? How?"

"We sometimes forget to close the door all the way," he explained, but gave her an accusatory look. "But for it to escape, your door must have been open as well."

"I didn't leave it open. It was probably Lorelei." She wasn't sure why she was blaming Lorelei, but it seemed fitting. "And what's this forgetting rubbish? Your door should be closed and locked as well."

"Fair point."

Sirius handed her the cat, and she held it up to her cheek. "Silly little pumpkin, wandering about at night. Why won't you stay with me?" The kitten mewed, twisting to get out of her grasp. Startled, she set it down on the sofa. "It hates me."

"Impossible."

They watched as the kitten jumped down and made a beeline for the boys' staircase. Sirius hopped up and swiped it off the steps before it could go any further.

"Why is it so eager to be with James?" he wondered aloud. "He doesn't even like cats."

"Maybe because Lily evicted it from her bed and James was the next best thing? It probably smells her on him."

"Could be."

Later, after a heated argument with Lorelei over shutting the door at night, which ended when Lorelei stormed out and slammed the door behind her, Annabelle placed the kitten in bed and got ready for breakfast. It was still there when she came back from the bathroom, happily playing with a string attached to the blanket, and again she felt silly for letting a kitten hurt her feelings.

By the end of the week, she had given up. The cat, whom she continued to call Pumpkin until the name stuck, was determined to sleep with Lily. Lily tried to keep it out of her bed - bringing it back to Annabelle's when it showed up in the middle of the night, telling it "no" when it climbed onto her lap while she was reading – but it still gravitated to her. Annabelle knew she shouldn't take it personally, but it stung a little. Sirius had given her the cat, and it wanted little to do with her.

"I can always get you another one," Sirius offered the following Sunday. He and Annabelle were lounging on the sofa in the common room, and she was feeling downright depressed about her unrequited kitten-love.

"Better not. I don't think I could handle being rejected by two kittens."

"If it means anything to you, it doesn't seem keen on me either, and I'm the one who rescued it."

"That does make me feel a tiny bit better." She grinned at him, and he scooted closer to her, pulling her legs into his lap.

"Maybe it knows you prefer dogs," he said. "Large, black dogs, to be specific."

"Ah, yes, that must be the reason."

James strolled into room and eased himself into a chair, then opened the Daily Prophet. Pumpkin was perched on his shoulder.

Sirius stared at him for moment. "Now you're just flaunting it."

"Don't start," James warned without looking up.

"You've got to be _kitten_ me."

"Sirius…"

A faint smile crossed Sirius' lips. "But you stole Annie's cat. You're a _cat_ burglar _._ "

James looked at him wide-eyed. "No, I didn't. It won't bloody well leave me alone! Honestly!"

Annabelle giggled, finding it rather endearing how the kitten had latched onto James and Lily, even though she wished it had latched onto her instead.

"You're a cat-person, now," she said. "What a _cat_ -tastrophe."

James mimicked laughing and slapping his knee, then grimaced. Annabelle and Sirius choked on their laughter.

"Laugh all you want," he said, turning his attention back to the paper. "But I am not a cat-person. Never will be."

Pumpkin nuzzled its head against his face, and he shook his head and sighed.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Late in the afternoon, Remus went with Claire to visit her family, and everyone else attempted to work on their mountains of assignments. Lily, Alice, and Annabelle decided the library would cut down on distractions – it was difficult to write with the Quidditch match blaring over the wireless, but it didn't seem to hinder the boys one bit. After two straight hours in the draughty library, their bums sore from the uncomfortable wooden chairs, they packed up their books and parchments and found an empty classroom, with the intent to practise casting a Patronus.

"I can't believe it took Professor MacMillan only two months' practise to cast one," said Alice. "I know he said he practised every day, but that's rather quick, isn't it?"

"I'd say so," said Lily, "considering some people never manage to cast one."

"How should we do this?" asked Alice. "Take turns?"

"Probably. If we're all saying the incantation at the same time it might make concentrating difficult."

"Who wants to go first?" asked Annabelle.

"I will," said Lily. "Just don't laugh at me."

"We won't," Alice assured her. "We're all in the same boat here."

"Sort of. You've been a bit better about practising than Annie and me."

"It's a requirement for being an Auror. I have to practise."

"You know," said Annabelle, "it's a great way to keep Dark Wizards out of the Auror Department, isn't it?"

"Huh," said Alice. "Never thought of it that way before. Truly dark wizards can't cast them, so they can't be Aurors. Interesting."

Professor MacMillan had recently told them in class, that in order to cast a Patronus, one had to be pure of heart. Evan Rosier had snickered and made a comment insinuating how no one he knew would be able to cast one, then. MacMillan clarified. Being pure of heart didn't mean one had to be superhuman, or saint-like. Of course, everyone makes mistakes – regret is often part of life's journey. But the capacity to love, to feel compassion and remorse, and the desire for a fair and peaceful world; these were the traits of the pure of heart. Deviants who harmed innocents did not have the ability to cast a Patronus, but MacMillan believed his students were all capable. If they really wanted it, they could do it, they only had to look within themselves.

"What's Frank's Patronus?" asked Lily.

"A heron. You know, the bird? I looked it up, and they're said to be patient and wise. That's Frank."

"I can't wait to see what ours will be," said Annabelle.

Lily smiled nervously. "Well, with my limited practise, I doubt we'll see mine today, but here goes."

She gave it her all, but nothing happened. Annabelle had the same disappointing results, and Alice did only slightly better, producing an almost undetectable puff of vapour. After several more failed attempts, they were about to give up, but decided to have one more go at it.

Again, Lily closed her eyes, focusing on Paris, the sun illuminating everything as she stood in front of the Sacré-Cœur and looked out over the city. She had said she wanted to twirl, so James took her hand and obliged before pulling her into his arms. It was the perfect moment of pure happiness… before the awful news… before James' world felt apart…

"Expecto Patronum!" A puff of silver vapour escaped her wand and lingered in the air, but faded fast.

Annabelle's mouth dropped open. "Lil, you almost did it!"

"But what did I do wrong?"

"Were you focused entirely on the memory and nothing else?" asked Alice.

"Yes… James and me in Paris, dancing in front in front of the Sacré-Cœur." But the more she thought about it, the more she realised she'd let the gutting news about Rosie creep into the memory. If she could only keep the moment with James separate… "Someone else try."

Alice went next. She had loads of memories to choose from – moments with her family, her friends, Frank – any one of them was strong enough, she knew. But she stuck with the memory she'd been practising with all year, the day she met Frank. He had been her cousin Gideon's guest at a family gathering; they had been mates at Hogwarts. Frank's ears had gone red as her cousin Molly chattered on and on to him, fanning herself with one hand, the other supporting her eight-months-pregnant belly.

"Alice!" called Molly when she spotted her. "Do you know Frank?"

Of course Alice remembered Frank from Hogwarts, two years ahead of her, intellectual and serious about his studies, but she hadn't known him personally. He was exactly her physical type – she preferred the cute but awkward boys over the swaggering athletic sort, but she never had the nerve to talk to him, and then he finished school. She reckoned her chance was lost.

"Not exactly. But I remember him." She held out her hand and he took it. "I'm Alice Prewett."

"Frank Longbottom. I remember you as well."

Realising she'd been grinning too much, she took a deep breath to compose herself.

"Frank's in training to be an Auror!" Molly said, and Frank blushed again.

Sweat was pouring off Molly, and she was turning red as well, not from bashfulness, but from the July heatwave. Alice suggested she go inside the house and have some water, as the high temperature and the sun beating down on her couldn't be healthy for a woman in her condition.

"Ah yes, a good plan," said Molly. "Off to rehydrate myself."

Alice waited for her to waddle away, then turned to Frank. His head was lowered, but he peeked at her, a small smile on his lips, and her heart skipped a beat.

"Expecto Patronum!"

A silver mist, much bigger than Lily's, burst from her wand, but it was shapeless.

"Whoa!" said Annabelle. "That was a Patronus!"

"Not a corporeal one."

"Still! You almost did it!"

Alice giggled. "I almost did it."

Lily rubbed her hands together in anticipation. "Your turn, Annie."

"The pressure is on," said Annabelle.

She turned round and closed her eyes. Despite the loss she'd suffered early in life, she had a treasure trove of beautiful memories she could choose from, ranging from her childhood, to her early days at Hogwarts, to more recent adventures and all the memories she and Sirius had created together. She opted for a favourite memory still fresh in her mind. There she was, on her broom, having just caught the Snitch in their final Quidditch match ever. Her ecstatic teammates surrounded her as the crowded roared, and then, Sirius kissed her. If happiness had a peak, she had been floating above it.

"Expecto Patronum!"

A wisp of silver, much like Lily's appeared from her wand, and she shrieked, not believing her eyes. "Something happened! I made something happen!" She turned to her friends. "Did you see it?"

"Of course we saw it!" said Lily as she bounced on her toes. "I think we can actually do this!"

They were giddy, and instead of practising some more, they dashed back to the common room to tell the boys.

James, Sirius, Peter, Caradoc, and Johnny B. had also stopped working on their assignments, and were in the middle of a game of Catch-the-Snitch. Other students had cleared out of the way, watching from the wall and peeking round stairwells, as the lads dove and pushed, tumbling over furniture and laughing themselves silly.

Sirius had just leapt onto a table when Lily called, "Oi!" Five heads turned toward her. "You'll never guess what we just did."

Annabelle jumped up and caught the Snitch.

"Good catch, Annie," said James, then smiled at Lily. "And what did you do?"

She measured her words carefully. "We were able… to cast… the beginnings… _of a_ _Patronus!_ "

Sirius dropped down from the table, his smile of a moment ago gone, and he went to the study table to gather his books. Figuring it was safe to come out, the other residents of Gryffindor tower spread out round the common room.

"What do you mean, 'the beginnings?'" asked James.

"We managed to produce a small mist," explained Lily. "Except Alice, who made a massive, swirling cloud!"

"Hers was definitely the best," said Annabelle.

"Brilliant," said James, clapping his hands. "Well done."

"Congratulations," said Caradoc. "Looks like the lot of us better get practising."

"Yeah, now I feel like a slacker," said Johnny B. with a wink. "Cheers for that."

"It's not a requirement," said Sirius, and everyone looked at him. "We don't have to do it to pass."

"No, but it's a wicked skill to have," James said. He scratched a hand through his hair, the light in his eyes going dim. "One I don't think I have much chance of mastering any time soon."

Lily stepped toward him and hugged him round his waist. "Don't forget, you've already done it once. When you're feeling better, you'll do it again."

Rosie had been gone six weeks, and lately, James was having more moments like the one Lily had just walked in on, where he was his usual playful self. But those carefree moments were woven with the sorrow of missing his mother so much, which still paralysed him frequently. Focusing on a happy memory long enough to produce a Patronus, when he was still trying to keep his head above water, would have to wait.

"You're right," he said. "If I did it once, I will do it again. Eventually."

She pulled his face down and rubbed her nose against his. A smile crept over his lips before she kissed him, but they stopped when a couple of nearby first years giggled and squealed, "Look! The head girl and boy are snogging!"

James stared up at the ceiling, irritated but mostly amused, then whispered in Lily's ear, "Come upstairs. I'll get my cloak for you."

"I'll wait by the girls' stairs."

Meanwhile, Annabelle had noticed Sirius' sudden mood shift - laughing and leaping on tables one moment, to scowling and barely acknowledging their accomplishment the next.

"Can you believe it?" she said as she approached him. "I cast the beginnings of a Patronus."

He tucked his books under his arm. "Course I can believe it. Who's more pure of heart than you?"

"I'm sure plenty of people," she said, detecting a hint of derision in his compliment. "I'm no saint."

He looked down at the floor, a subtle smirk on his face. "Close enough."

There was something almost demeaning in his tone, and she was reminded of how she perceived him fifth year and before. Old feelings resurfaced.

"Next you're going to call me _Dumbledore's Darling_ and laugh at me when I walk past."

His eyes met hers, the smirk fading. "After everything we've been through, and that's what you think of me?"

"No, but it feels like you are about one phony compliment away from calling me a Goody-Two-Shoes or a Princess."

"Phony compliment?"

Annabelle crossed her arms over herself. "You're not happy for us? Not even a little?"

"It's not that. But I don't know why everyone's so desperate to learn it. It's not as useful as you think."

"But Professor MacMillan said-"

"I know what he said, but there's other ways to send messages without all that effort. And the only other thing a Patronus is good for is fighting off Dementors, so unless you're planning a visit to Azkaban, it's mostly useless."

"In peacetime, sure, we wouldn't have much use for it, but Voldemort's declared war on us whether we want to accept it or not. And despite what you think, it's not a waste of time. What if you need to send a message quickly and there's no owls about? Might come in handy then."

"Fine, Annabelle. You're right. I reckon I should get right on it."

He shoved his free hand into his pocket, his eyes looking everywhere but at her. That was when she realised he hadn't attempted the charm yet. Sirius Black, always the first to master any charm, spell, or potion, hadn't cast even a hint of a Patronus.

"Do you want to practise with me?" she asked him.

"Em, I don't know if it's the kind of charm one learns with other people about."

Again, there was mockery in his tone, and she looked at him like he was stranger. He bit down on his bottom lip, inhaling deeply. When he met her hurt gaze, he relented. "I'm sorry," he said, forcing a smile. "I reckon I'm envious. I can't do it, so…"

"You haven't even tried, have you?"

"Not really. Maybe I will, now that I know it's possible. Never know when it might come in handy."

He was holding back, she could tell, but his rigid posture and fake smile told her he wanted the conversation to end.

"Right," she said. "I think I'll go upstairs for a bit."

She moved in the direction of the stairs, but he caught her hand. She stopped, and turned back to him.

"Annie, I'm sorry I made it seem like I wasn't impressed with your progress, because I am. But I truly wasn't surprised. I wasn't surprised when James did it, and I'm not surprised Lily and Alice came close. I'm sure Johnny B. and Doc will be next. Shite, I bet Peter will do it before me."

"I doubt it. You would probably do it before everyone if you tried."

Frustration welled up in him, and he didn't know what to do with it. What would it say about him if he couldn't do it? And what would Annabelle think of him when she found out? What would everyone think?

"Then I will try." He squeezed her hand. "But for now, I have other, more pressing issues to worry about, like dinner. Meet me back here in twenty minutes?" He held his breath, hoping she would let this Patronus thing go.

"Sure," she said, and kissed his cheek before retreating up the girls' staircase.

In addition to feeling tainted by his past, now he felt like a massive tosser. Hurting Annabelle's feelings over a charm was the opposite of pure-hearted. She believed in him, and saw something worth loving in him, so maybe he could work on focusing, for her sake. Later, after everyone went to sleep, he would attempt to clear his head and focus on one happy memory. If it turned out he couldn't do it, then he would tell everyone he had no interest in learning the charm, and no one would think any less of his abilities.

Or his heart.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

That afternoon, Remus found himself sitting in the dining room at Claire's house. Her mother, Natasha, had been warm and welcoming when they arrived, just as she had been when he had first met her. Claire's father, Giles, on the other hand, seemed distracted, acknowledging Remus rather coldly and quickly leaving the room. An hour later, Claire's sister, Abigail, was crying into her napkin, and her brother, Michael, was helping his fiancée into her coat.

"So glad you dragged us out on a Sunday," Michael said, "forcing us to witness your arguing and insulting each other from the moment we stepped out the Floo, just to tell us you're getting divorced. Cheers."

Natasha put her face in her hands as Michael and his wife left. Claire's father stood up, shoved his chair in so hard it whacked against the table, and stormed out of the room. Claire sat hunched, her eyes darting to Remus from across the table, then down to her lap. Her sister flung her arms round her mother, and Claire took her mother's hand.

"I'm so sorry," cried Natasha. "We've been on the fence with this for months. I didn't realise you were bringing Remus along today, but it was time to tell you. Pretending everything is fine has been exhausting!"

Remus looked at his plate, not sure if he should leave the room or stay put. Abigail's husband, Balthazar, had moved into the sitting room.

Sensing his discomfort, Claire said, "It's all right, Remus. Go with Balthazar. I'll join you in a bit."

He nodded and quietly excused himself. In the sitting room, Balthazar was seated in a rocking chair, and Remus sat down on the sofa. The walls were covered in Natasha's wild, vibrant artwork, and the bookshelves on either side of the hearth were stacked with volumes on Arithmancy. Giles could be heard pacing the floor the above them, his footfalls causing the multi-coloured light fixture - presumably one of Natasha's creations - to rattle.

"So," said Balthazar, "bet you weren't expecting a show like this, eh?"

Remus gave a tight, humourless smile. "No. I reckon I wasn't."

"Don't hold it against Claire. She's been at school for most of it. Probably had no idea."

"I wouldn't hold it against her. Why would I-"

"Oh shit, he's coming."

Footsteps made their way down the stairs until Giles came into view. He crossed to the bay window next to the sofa, folded his arms, and looked out.

"I'm sorry, gentlemen, you had to witness our marital troubles playing out before your eyes."

"No problem, Giles," said Balthazar. "It happens."

"For your sake, and my daughter's, I hope it doesn't _happen._ Natasha and I married young, mainly because we learned she was carrying Abigail, but we thought we were in love, as well. And maybe we were, but the demands of raising a family so young whilst maintaining our careers took its toll I reckon. Over the last few years, she's spent more time painting than anything else, holed up in her studio, and I spend more time at the office to avoid coming home. We lost interest in each other, so it seems. And once that happens, resentment sets in, followed by strife."

When Remus and Balthazar remained silent, Giles turned to them.

"Strife, lads. Arguing over every little thing. We would be at each other's throats over who used the last of the Floo powder, or who was supposed to purchase mice for the owl. Everything ended with us verbally tearing each other apart, doing our best to outdo the other in the hurt department. I didn't know either of us was capable of such nastiness, but when you start to bring out the worst in each other, it's time…" he said, turning his gaze to the window again, "it's time to go your separate ways."

Balthazar nervously tapped his fingers on his thighs, shooting Remus an uneasy look.

Giles exhaled heavily. "Sometimes I think we got too caught up in our own desires, and forgot to love each other. If only we'd tried harder, or been kinder when we were in foul moods, or gone the extra mile to be caring… maybe we wouldn't be here now, with so much damage done, so many harmful words we can't take back."

Remus was aware marriage could be tough – his own parents had their struggles when he was growing up – but at the end of the day they still loved each other, and he'd never heard them argue in the extreme way Giles was describing. He couldn't imagine arguing with Claire like that. It didn't seem possible.

Once they returned to the castle, they walked for a bit, and ended up in the hidden chamber Remus and his mates discovered second year. Claire was feeling down, and wanted to talk without an audience, and Remus couldn't bear to leave her for the evening without allowing her some time to vent.

"I had feeling," she said. "The last two times I was home, they barely spoke to each other, and when they did, it was short and to the point. Mechanical. But I had no idea things were bad enough to end their marriage."

She shivered from the chill in the room and Remus pulled her into his arms. "I'm sorry, Claire. It must've been terrible for them… being so unhappy with each other."

"Honestly? They were so different. She came from a wealthy family, and growing up, she had everything she could dream of, but he'd grown up poor, and his family struggled to makes ends meet. They really were opposites, which might be what attracted them in the first place, but I guess it wasn't enough to keep them together."

He knew she was looking for one reason to explain everything – a way of simplifying it so she could understand. Remus didn't think there was anything simple about the situation, or else it could have easily been fixed. But he didn't have the answers, so he didn't contradict her.

"Do you think…" Remus asked, "…some couples are doomed from the start?"

"No. I don't."

"Really?"

"Really. Sometimes things fall apart. But not always. They say marriage is work, maybe because you have to give a lot of yourself. Some people can do that for the rest of their lives, some can't I guess… But – I know I could do that for you."

She looked up at him with her big brown eyes, and a pain throbbed in his chest. "Claire – I-"

She put a hand on his cheek. "When I finish school next year, I want to live with you."

"Wh- where did that come from?"

"I don't know, but I mean it. Would you want to?"

"But won't your parents object? We won't be married, and –"

"I don't care. They're in no place to dictate my relationship with you when they can't even handle their own. I love you, and I won't let their problems affect us."

"Of course you won't. We're not them. But, I don't want your parents to hate me, either. Even if they don't love each other anymore, they still love you."

"I know, but I love you, and I want to be with you. My parents got married because my mum was pregnant. I'm not saying they didn't love each other, but maybe the pressure they were under sort of ruined everything. We don't have to get married. We can move in together because we _want_ to, and we can get married when the time is right for us."

Her reasoning was fool proof, her enthusiasm infectious. Living with Claire was a dream of his – waking up to her, having a space all their own, sharing meals at the same table, holding her every night – but he couldn't get excited about it, because he couldn't guarantee her any stability. He couldn't promise her she wouldn't end up hating him like her parents hated each other. How would she feel if he couldn't get hired? Or if his employer found out about his Lycanthropy and was less than understanding? There was a strong possibility he wouldn't be able to hold down a job. How would she feel when she had to pay the rent every month?

"Claire… I don't know if you fully understand what people like me go through… but I might be living with my parents for a bit."

"I thought you and your mates were going to share a flat."

"That's what they keep telling me, but I haven't agreed to anything yet. Unless I can pay my fair share, I'm not going to be a leech, living off their good graces."

"A _leech_? Remus, what a terrible thing to say."

"It's true isn't it? No one is going to want a Werewolf working for them. Most people aren't as enlightened, or as kind as you. For Merlin's sake, some people still think you can contract Lycanthropy from a handshake!"

He stood up and paced to the other side of the room. Turning back to her, he said, "You will grow to resent me when you have to support us both financially. I know you don't see it now, but you will. In time, you will."

"I've decided I'm going to be a Healer," said Claire. "So, if necessary, I think I'll be able to keep us afloat financially without resentment."

"Ah yes, but you know the saying… the best laid plans of mice and men _…"_

Claire stood up and walked over to him, taking his hands. "I will never resent you. I know _you_ don't see it now _,_ but you will, because I will prove it to you. It's the seventies, Remus. A woman can support her family if she so chooses."

But even if she didn't resent him, and was comfortable supporting him financially, he wasn't sure he would be comfortable with it. How pathetic he would feel, not being able to take care of her.

"I would feel like a burden."

"Well, you'd just have to get over it."

He huffed a laugh. "Get over it?"

"The macho stuff. You're still a man, Remus, no matter what. You mean so much more to me than your job prospects. It's not your fault society is twisted and ignorant."

"Easier said than done."

"So you would end up resenting _me_? Is that what you're saying?"

"Not intentionally, but… I don't know… I would feel inferior. I just would."

Claire's eyes filled with tears. "Why do I get the feeling you're breaking up with me again?"

"No, Claire, I'm not breaking up with you… I just can't guarantee the future… I can't make any promises. What if… what if I got you pregnant? What then? The baby could be... _like me_. And then you'd have two of us on your hands, and you would _hate_ me for it, Claire! When you saw your baby suffering like I do, you would hate me for it!"

"No! I wouldn't hate you. But we're so careful! And there's a new potion out that prevents pregnancy! Emily told me about it – she read about it in _Siren_. You have to be eighteen to get it, but-"

"But you'll want children someday."

"I want _you!_ " She turned away, hands on her forehead. "Why can't you see what's important?"

"I do. Why can't you?"

She whipped round to face him. "Money? That's what's important? And when have I ever expressed an interest in having children? When?"

"You might someday."

"We could adopt a child if we really wanted one. Why do you need to think the worst all the time? You're so convinced our lives together would be shit, and you don't _know_ that!"

Remus was startled by her use of the word shit. Not that he minded, since his mates swore all the time, but Claire never swore.

"See?" he said. "I'm already bringing out the worst in you."

She stared at him for a moment, her face expressionless, before turning for the door.

"Wait – Claire – I didn't mean – _god_! How did we end up fighting like this?"

She stopped in the doorway. "You have no faith in us. In me."

He wanted to argue, but the truth was, he had little faith in anything anymore. She hesitated, but when he didn't respond, she left. A heavy breath escaped him, and he followed, not wanting her to be a walking target for whomever was cursing people. They walked in silence to Ravenclaw tower, Claire a step ahead of him the entire way. He waited at the base of the stairs until she was safely inside, warring with himself over whether to stop her. She had been through a lot for one evening, and now he'd upset her more. But he couldn't lie to her and say everything would be fine, because he didn't know if it would be. If he allowed her some time to consider his words, to let them sink in, she might rethink wanting to live with him so soon after finishing school.

As he made his way back to Gryffindor tower, a panic rose in his throat, because he realised he might actually lose her. She might decide he wasn't worth the sacrifice. And what could he do? Because as much as it killed him inside, he wouldn't be able to fault her for it.

In a swell of frustration, he pounded a fist against the wall of the seventh floor corridor. His hand throbbed with pain, and he rested his head against the cool stones before sinking to the floor, where he stayed until curfew.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Annabelle remained quiet throughout dinner, and after revising for a Charms exam, she went to bed early. Sirius felt sick over how dismissive he had been of her progress, and decided to go to his room as well. Being with other people meant maintaining a façade of normalcy, which was too much for him at the moment.

As he lay in bed that night, he tried to focus on a happy memory – his birthday last summer, when the Potters had invited his mates over, and there was a dinner and cake in his honour. The sun had been setting, painting the dining room gold, and just before he blew out the seventeen candles, Annabelle kissed his cheek and smiled at him. He remembered looking into her eyes and wishing the moment could last forever, as it felt so momentous – a real birthday party, with people who cared about him – loved him even.

How he had envied his classmates when they spoke of parties and family gatherings, and how isolated he felt with no stories of his own to share. Birthdays at Grimmauld Place were barely acknowledged. When he was small, presents consisted of some expensive piece of uncomfortable clothing, and a plain, dry cake with the wrong number of candles on it. No guests were invited, and his father would leave the table before the cake was brought out. Every single time. His mother would stay, a pretend smile contorting her face as she endured the event as best as someone with her aversion to motherhood could. There was little celebration, and it was over with as quickly as possible. As Sirius grew older, he wanted to scream at them for not remembering his correct age, but soon they stopped putting candles on the cake, and eventually the cakes stopped altogether, as he was "rather old for such rubbish."

And just as he expected, the warm, cherished memory of his first real birthday party, surrounded by light and love, was swallowed by the gloom of his formative years - the hurt, the loneliness, and the fear that shaped him. He would never escape it, because one memory always led to another, and when there was more bad than good in the mix, all hope of casting a Patronus was lost.

He went to sleep, and dreamt of musky corridors teeming with emerald green snakes, shining walking sticks slicing through the air, and cake so dry he was choking on it. Choking to death.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

When Annabelle got in bed for the night, she held the kitten, petting it for as long as it would allow before leaving for its preferred residence with Lily. She no longer considered it hers, and told Lily she could have it. James had been against the change in ownership, but not because he wasn't keen on cats. In fact, it was obvious to everyone he and Pumpkin had grown rather chummy. But he didn't feel right accepting the cat when Sirius had given it to Annabelle. Pumpkin didn't care about James' feelings on the matter, though, and hopped down from Annabelle's bed and leapt into Lily's.

"Goodnight Pumpkin," Annabelle whispered, and rolled over to her side. Melancholy flooded her, but not for the kitten. Sirius had been so scornful of her accomplishment, which wasn't like him. She had mostly avoided speaking to him for the remainder of the evening, but only because he was equally distant with her. The subtle sneer in his tone when he called her "pure of heart" had hurt, but when he admitted he hadn't bothered with the charm, and claimed everyone else would master it before him, she was confused. To think, someone as gifted as Sirius hadn't even tried to cast a Patronus yet.

Now, as she lay awake turning it over in her mind, another thought occurred to her – one she wished she'd had when they were arguing. What if he thought his heart wasn't pure enough? It was ridiculous, and she almost laughed out loud, but it was exactly the kind of lie he would convince himself was true. She wanted him to believe in himself like she believed in him, but the disparity between the Sirius she knew, and the person looking back at him in the mirror everyday was still immense. If only he would _try_ to cast a bloody Patronus, he would find he could do it, and then maybe, he would be convinced once and for all of the light inside him, the light everyone but Sirius could see.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Sirius woke with a start the next morning, his hair plastered to his face with sweat. It was early, so the bathroom was mostly empty, which meant he could stay in the shower as long as he wanted. As the hot water rained down on him, he admonished himself to get it together. It was a charm most people couldn't cast, including ordinary witches and wizards with no major baggage or genetic predispositions toward darkness. He could do everything else his professors expected of him, and becoming an Animagus was no small feat either, so he wasn't a complete failure. The Patronus Charm might be useful, but he could manage life without it. He rested his head against the tiles and turned the water to all the way to cold, gasping and forcing himself to endure what felt like icy knives on his skin until he became numb to the sensation.

As usual, the boys waited for the girls before breakfast, and Sirius hoped Annabelle wasn't still angry with him. He felt lost and anxious, like he'd stumbled into a hole which turned out to be a chasm. The light was there, but it was so far above him he couldn't reach it. He needed her not to be angry.

As soon as she appeared from the stairwell behind Lily and Alice, her eyes found his. She stopped abruptly, her brow knitted with concern.

"What is it?" she asked, looking like she might cry. "Are you all right?"

It amazed him how easily she could read him. He shook his head slowly, desperate to know everything was right between them. "I missed you last night."

Her body visibly relaxed and she flew into his arms. "I missed you as well."

He held her tight, remorse overtaking him. "I'm sorry for how I treated you yesterday. I don't know what came over me, but I'm proud of you, no matter what."

She pressed her lips to his, not caring that everyone had left without them. After a deep kiss, she pulled back, placing a hand on his chest while the other danced through the hair at the nape of his neck. "Thank you for the apology, but I know your heart, and it's pure, Sirius, you know that? It's pure as gold."

His eyes stung with tears. When he was with her, he felt good, and pure. Like gold. A few underclassmen passed through on their way to the portrait hole, and then the room was empty. A heartbeat later, Annabelle's mouth was on his neck, and Sirius closed his eyes.

"You want to go upstairs?" she breathed into his skin. "Because I do."

He nodded faintly, whispering a desperate "Yes," before meeting her lips again. After another charged kiss, Annabelle blinked up at him, her face still in his hands. She tugged him by the robe toward the boys' staircase.

"Let's go, then, before someone sees me."

Not wasting any time, he took her hand and led her up the winding stairs to his room.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

After the first class of the day, Sirius left Annabelle at the library and returned to Gryffindor Tower. His mood had improved, and while the issue of casting a Patronus still itched at the back of his mind, for now, he would allow himself a reprieve in order to think about Annabelle… her legs hugging his sides as her lips dragged across his chest, her body as it moved with his. Merlin, she made him feel alive, like he'd stepped out of a fog into the sunlight, and nothing hurt, and nothing hid in shadows waiting to devour him, because with her, shadows ceased to exist.

When he climbed through the portrait hole, he had a lilt in his step and it took him a moment to notice Professor McGonagall sitting rigidly on the sofa, her face drawn as she twisted a handkerchief in her hands. His first thought was she had come to scold him for missing breakfast, but his mates were there as well. James was on the other end of the sofa with Lily and Alice in between, and Caradoc sat in the chair nearest the professor, Johnny B. perched on its arm beside him. Remus stood behind the sofa, supporting himself against it with his arms, and Peter was in the other chair. Strangely, no other students were about, as though she'd sent them away. His mates' wide, frightened eyes told Sirius they didn't know why she was there any more than he did.

"I'm glad you're here," Professor McGonagall said, trembling slightly as she spoke. "You'll want to find a seat. I have tragic news to share with you all."

Sirius sat down on the arm of the sofa beside James, crossed his arms, and attempted to steel himself against whatever she was about to tell them.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey readers! In case you didn't know, my one-shot, Evan Rosier Was Mine, is posted. It's a spin-off, so you might find it interesting. :)


	17. Things Fall Apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the wait – I came down with a stomach virus, and you know how those go, followed by an insanely high fever and shakes and omg I thought it was the end. Felt BLAH for the better part of a week, then was busy with the holiday. So, better late than never… hope you're still out there and reading! (If you are, please review?)
> 
> joggers (UK) = sweatpants (US)

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;  
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,  
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere  
The ceremony of innocence is drowned…_

_From "The Second Coming," by William Butler Yeats_

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Does that mean?" asked James, not sure he was understanding Professor McGonagall. She had said the Kenmare Kestrals' brooms had been tampered with, and all seven members plummeted, and something about "spinal shock" when Fairfax hit the ground, but that didn't mean…

"Yes," she said, her eyes shimmering with tears. "He died instantly."

"No way," said Caradoc, shaking his head. "It's a mistake. You're wrong."

"I'm sorry. I wish I could tell you it was a mistake, but there was nothing… nothing the healers could do."

James wasn't sure who cried out first, he thought maybe it was Caradoc, who had dropped to the floor on his hands and knees. Or maybe it was Lily, whose head was bowed, shielded by her arms as her shoulders shook.

"Fairfax?" he asked, as though there was still a chance he'd heard wrong.

"I'm so very sorry," McGonagall said, her hand on Alice's back.

"It was Voldemort?"

She wiped her eyes with her handkerchief. "It's a strong possibility."

Johnny B. was on his knees, his arms clinging to Caradoc whose head was pressed into the rug. Both sobbed uncontrollably. Remus had gone to the window while Peter sat stockstill in his chair, his mouth half open. Sirius stood up and staggered to the Portrait Hole, wiping his eyes with the collar of his robe and muttering something about "telling her before she hears it from someone else," but James was so disoriented he didn't think to follow. Nothing felt real. None of this was real.

He watched as tears fell down Professor McGonagall's face, and for the first time, what he had suspected for years to be true was confirmed for him: adults had no more control over life than kids did, no matter how much they pretended to. He felt dazed as his friends fell apart around him. He had so many questions, but speaking them aloud would only confirm this horror was real, so he tried to breathe, but he couldn't, he couldn't get a breath, and he wanted to throw something, and _break_ something, but…

"We were going to see him play," he choked out as he stood, raking both hands through his hair. "We promised him. He was going to be famous. We promised we'd see him play!"

He paced to the wall beside the hearth, and then Lily was there, holding him as he broke down in tears over his dead friend.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The Hogwarts library was filled with old, brittle books, and students could be careless, so Annabelle was charged with the task of sorting through some of the heavily used volumes and repairing any tears or broken bindings. She had settled at a table round the corner from Madam Wigworthy's desk where she was restoring a tattered edition of _Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century._ Touched to see a page devoted to her grandfather, she had just finished reading it when Sirius appeared and knelt beside her chair.

"Annie."

His tear-soaked cheeks and bloodshot eyes caused her breath to catch. He took her hand in both of his and kissed it.

"You're crying," she stated, her voice flat as the hair stood up on the back of her neck.

"Come with me, yeah?"

She stared at him, not wanting to move. "Why."

"Please, I don't want to tell you…" he sniffled as he glanced about the room, "in here. Come."

He stood up, and she left the books on the table as she followed him into the foyer, her stomach clenched painfully. He led her to a corner under a narrow window and laced his fingers with hers. His mouth opened, but nothing came out. She waited, every muscle in her body taut.

Finally, he took a shaky breath and met her eyes. "Fairfax-"

" _What?_ " she shrieked, a hand flying over her mouth.

He coughed out a sob. "He's… he's dead."

She cried out, her knees buckling under her. He caught her and sunk to the floor with her, clutching her body to his.

"He didn't suffer. He was on his broom and fell… it was instant… his neck…"

She wailed into his shoulder, her hands gripping his robes as her body convulsed with despair.

"The whole team was hurt…" he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "Someone jinxed their brooms."

"Voldemort!"

"Don't know… Probably… Don't know yet."

"Sirius… _how?_ Not our Fairfax… _please_ …"

He rocked her as his own body shook with weeping. He knew Voldemort existed the same way he knew Manticores existed. They were otherworldly creatures, and he doubted he would ever come face to face with one. But now Voldemort had crossed that imagined barrier into their world. He had taken someone they all loved. To think, Fairfax was gone…

"I'm so sorry my love," he whispered, his heart crumbling inside of him. "I'm so sorry."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Remus hadn't spoken to Claire at all that morning. They had exchanged a brief, painful look across the Great Hall, but that was it, and his stomach sank even further. But now, after hearing Fairfax was dead, he couldn't believe he'd lost sight of what was important. No one was promised a future, Fairfax was proof of that. Fretting over money issues when he hadn't even finished school yet was a waste of time, time which would be better spent loving her. He could hardly breathe as he jogged to Ravenclaw Tower, hoping she was there so he could make things right between them.

A girl was coming down the stairs when he reached the tower, and he asked if she would be kind enough to go back and see if Claire was there. To let her know Remus needed to speak to her. Her eyes roved over him as though considering whether he was worth the inconvenience.

"Please, it's urgent."

"Oh all right." She turned on the balls of her feet and thumped back up the stairs.

A few moments later the girl returned, followed by Claire.

"Thank you, Laura," Claire said to her.

Laura promptly descended the stairs and Claire turned her attention to Remus. Her complexion was ashen and there were dark circles under her eyes, no doubt caused by the news of her parents' divorce and the row with Remus that followed. A pang of guilt cut through him for causing her more grief on top of her family drama.

"You wanted to see me, Remus?"

"Will you sit with me?"

She hesitated, but he motioned to the steps and she joined him. Her brow knitted as she studied his face.

"Are you all right?"

He chewed his bottom lip, not sure how to proceed. His heart was pounding so hard he could feel it in his throat, the way it did during transformations. Desperation consumed him, and he blurted everything out in a frenzy.

"I'm sorry for what I said last night - how _callous_ I was, how focused on my own feelings - you were right, constantly predicting the worst isn't fair to either of us. I wasn't even giving us a chance!"

She put a steadying hand on his arm. "Shh, sweetheart, calm down. There's no need to be so upset."

"I want you to have everything you could ever possibly want. And you might not with me. You may be sorry, and-"

"Hold on - are you a seer? How do you know what either of us will want ten, fifteen years from now? If we love each other, we will figure it out together. We can do this, Remus, _together."_

Tears spilled down his cheeks - the pain over Fairfax, the fear of the future – it was crushing him.

She took his hand from his knee and held it. "Love doesn't mean we suddenly have all the answers, or that everything's perfect. It means we're on this journey together, with all its ups and downs." He covered his eyes with his free hand, cracking under the weight of his sorrow. Claire slipped her arms round his neck and kissed his cheek. "What is it, Remus? Tell me."

He took his hand from his eyes and held onto her arm, which was still looped round him. "We received some bad news today…." He choked up, losing the battle with his tears and wiped his eyes on the back of his hand. "Fairfax… he was killed-"

Claire released Remus, her hands flying over her mouth.

"Someone jinxed… someone jinxed the Kestrals' brooms. His neck broke."

Claire's eyes squeezed shut, tears forcing their way out.

"He would laugh at me sometimes," Remus went on, "saying I took everything too seriously. He said I needed to live in the moment, because it's all we're guaranteed. I'd get angry, because what did he know about my condition and all the trouble it brings? But he was right. For now, I'm alive, and I love you Claire. That's all I know for sure."

Claire flung her arms round him and he wept into her hair.

"And I love you," she said. "That's all I need to know."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

When Annabelle and Sirius entered the common room, only Peter remained. He was still seated in the chair he was in when Sirius left, nervously twiddling his thumbs. His eyes met theirs.

"Where is everyone," Sirius asked.

"Upstairs. McGonagall excused us from class for the day. Said to come see her if we need to talk about it."

Annabelle began to cry again. "Where's Doc and Johnny B.?" she asked.

"In their room I reckon. Caradoc's a mess. Ran to the toilet to be sick."

Annabelle tugged Sirius toward the stairs for the second time that day, this time without fear of being seen, as the rules of conduct were irrelevant to her at the moment.

"You coming, mate?" Sirius asked Peter.

Peter looked away, his mouth curving downward. "Maybe later."

Sirius gave a nod and followed Annabelle up the stairs.

Caradoc was on his bed when Annabelle arrived, his face buried in his pillow. Johnny B. was seated at the edge of his bed, his head in his hands, but he looked up when Annabelle knocked on the door frame.

His eyes were puffy from crying, and when they met Annabelle's, tears filled them again. She hurried to him, hugging him tight while Sirius sat down on the edge of Caradoc's bed and gave his stricken mate's head a rub. Soon James entered the room, followed by Lily and Alice. Words didn't come, and they sat with each other for a time, not knowing what else to do but be together.

By the end of the day, word of Fairfax's death had spread throughout the school. None of his friends went to dinner that evening, too shocked and overwrought to move. McGonagall had house-elves deliver food to their rooms and they ate some, but most of it was left untouched.

_Veritas_ reported on the tragedy that evening. James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter were the only ones to come down from the dorms to listen to it along with the other students in the common room, who were carrying on, still untouched by Voldemort.

**"Our sources confirm this was an act of sabotage,"** Lux's distorted voice said, sounding strained and sad, **"carried out by Voldemort's Death Eaters. Six of the seven players on the team are and were muggleborn, as well as the team's manager, who recently spoke out against Voldemort's plans for the world at large. Five players remain in critical condition this evening, whilst another player, Fairfax Hood, a reserve Beater for the team, died instantly from spinal shock when his neck broke. Nearing his nineteenth birthday, Hood was a star Beater at Hogwarts. He was-"**

"Turn it off," said James to the student nearest the wireless, a fifth-year boy whose name he didn't remember.

**"at the start of his career with the Kestrals, and had played in his first professional match-"**

"TURN IT OFF!"

The boy did as he was told, and James kicked a chair before retreating to his room again. All eyes were glued to him as he stalked away, then shifted to Sirius, Remus, and Peter. Some students expressed their condolences since everyone except the first years knew who Fairfax was. Sirius had the bizarre feeling of being in a dream he couldn't awaken from, like this couldn't be happening, but he couldn't wrench himself out of it. He wanted to scream. He wanted the world to go away. And he wanted Voldemort to die just as Fairfax had: quickly, with no chance to defend himself.

On second thought, no he didn't. He wanted him to suffer first.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The funeral was on Thursday, and Annabelle woke at dawn, her heart pounding. She went to the bathroom and splashed water on her face, but the panic inside her heart grew stronger, beating its wings until she couldn't get a deep breath. Calming draught would do the trick, but she'd taken the last dose Madam Pomfrey provided her two nights before.

She went back to her room and sat down, taking deep breaths, but peace wouldn't come. The room was lit with the faint glow of sunrise, and she could just make out her roommates sleeping figures. Unlike the boys, Annabelle and her roommates only closed their bed curtains if they wanted to go to sleep early. It made it easier to talk well into the night, giggling about whatever sounds Lorelei emitted in her sleep, and to make each other laugh with stories and silly games picked up from Johnny B. Annabelle had lost count of the nights she'd laughed herself to sleep with Lily and Alice.

She knew what happened to Fairfax could happen again, to any of them. Not in the same way, but Voldemort was nothing if not conniving, and she was terrified he would find a way to steal everyone she loved, picking them off one by one. A whirlwind of anxiety gripped her, and to combat it, she threw on some joggers and a Gryffindor t-shirt Sirius had outgrown, then wrote a note to the girls indicating she would be running the stairs.

A small part of her, perhaps what remained of the child she once was, hoped to find Fairfax there, sweaty and rosy-cheeked, his blue-eyes flashing with the joy of having breath in his lungs and not a care in the world. When she arrived and he was nowhere to be found, she felt the last remnants of innocence seep from her, the days of make-believe finding their place in the past. She launched herself up the stairs, running hard and fast, but by the third lap, she was weeping, and she collapsed to a seated position, panting as her tears dripped into her lap.

"Annie! Are you all right?"

It was Johnny B., also dressed to run.

" _No_."

He jogged up to where she sat and dropped down beside her, instantly pulling her into a hug.

"Why are you here alone?" he asked. "You shouldn't be taking chances."

"I didn't think about it. Why are you alone?"

"I dare one of those fuckers to curse me. They'll regret it when I hex their dicks off."

On an ordinary day she would have laughed, but any mirth was buried deep within her under heaps of fear and rage. There was no humour in his voice anyway, so she could only assume he meant it.

"Don't hex anyone, all right? They're crazy. They'll kill you. They're going to kill us all."

"Shhh love. Breathe. We're here now, yeah? We're here now, and we won't go down without a fight."

But Annabelle didn't want to fight. She wanted to live without looking over her shoulder, and without the gnawing dread of learning someone else she loved was murdered. She wished Voldemort would go away and leave them alone, but wishing wouldn't change anything. The way things were going, she would have to fight whether she wanted to or not, or else surrender to a madman. And she would not surrender to such a hateful, vile being, she decided, even if she was the last witch standing.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Ellerton Abbey in the Yorkshire Dales was cold and gray, Annabelle noted, and desolate. One couldn't even call it a village as it was only a few farms along a winding country road. Drystone hedges bordered snowy fields dotted with sheep, and the wind whipped across the moors causing the air to feel colder than it actually was. The funeral had been in a church a few towns away, and now Fairfax's family, friends, and several of his former professors gathered inside a stone farmhouse – the home of the Hood family - forcing food and tea down their constricted throats and holding it together for the sake of Fairfax's mother, who was beside herself with grief.

Mary sat on the sofa, despondent, flanked on either side with Hood siblings. Pain manifested itself in every movement, every breath, as she twisted the diamond ring on her finger. Fairfax hadn't proposed yet, but his family knew he was planning to, and gave her the ring because he would want her to have it.

Seeing Mary's anguish, hearing the intermittent cries of Mrs. Hood from the kitchen, and watching her friends struggle to suppress their rage and suffering was too much for Annabelle. A moment was all she needed to gather her strength, so she crossed to the window on the far side of the room for a brief respite from the effort of making small talk.

Outside, the land was barren and frozen, so frozen that Dumbledore himself had to magic a hole in the ground for the coffin, which he had done well before the mourners arrived at the church. Fairfax's uncle had wondered aloud how it'd been done, but Dumbledore had a lengthy, confusing answer already prepared to satisfy muggle curiosity, full of long, made-up words for machinery that put them off asking any more questions. Otherwise, the burial would have to wait until the ground thawed, and no one wanted to deny the family a modicum of closure.

She imagined in summer the land was lush and green, and she envisioned a young Fairfax running through the fields with his muggle siblings, the sun glinting off his hair, happy and free as he ever was. A desperate urge to see him in the flesh seized her; how was it possible she never would again? How death confounded and angered her. And how Voldemort sickened her to the point of fury.

Lily appeared by her side, wrapping an arm round her shoulders. She was silent for a moment as she too looked out at the sprawling hills of white. Her lower lip began to tremble, and she said, "I sort of feel like he's here, watching us. Maybe telling us, 'Oi, cheer up you sorry lot.' He couldn't stand seeing anyone sad."

Annabelle felt the pull of despair as tears flooded her eyes. "I can't cheer up."

"Nor can I."

She rested her head on Lily's shoulder, and Lily rested her head on Annabelle's. Soon, Remus joined them.

"Fairfax would've loved seeing Dumbledore dressed like a muggle," he said. "His little brother thought he was Father Christmas in disguise."

Lily smiled through her tears. "He wouldn't be able to stop laughing."

The memory of his laughter steadied them for a moment, as they half expected to hear it ring out. They were used to the sound, so when it didn't come, reality came crashing back down and agony swelled within them again.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Sirius watched as Caradoc ducked into the loo for the third time since they'd arrived at the Hood residence. After about five minutes, he remerged with red, swollen eyes, his chest puffed up with the resolve to stay composed. Always a private person, Caradoc had been doing a lot of crying in loos over the past few days. He'd lost his best mate, his brother really, and like the rest of them, he never got to say goodbye. Words were meaningless, comfort an impossibility. The only remedy for his pain would be Fairfax himself, alive and well.

"He's not doing so great," said James.

"Can't blame him."

"No, course not." James exhaled a trembling breath and crossed his arms over himself. "You know, this might sound massively soppy but I keep imagining my mum being the one to greet him, wherever they are now."

"That's not soppy at all."

"Yeah, well, I figure they'll keep each other company. Maybe he'll tell her all the stuff we got up to over the years, and she'll pretend to be shocked, even though she knew everything."

Sirius' mouth quirked up at the thought. "Couldn't keep anything from Rosie. She knew us too well."

A photo on the mantle of Fairfax as a small boy caught Sirius' eye. He looked so happy and innocent, as though he'd never known true sadness. Sure, growing up in large family on a farm held its own unique challenges, but with a family like the Hoods, he had a solid foundation on which to grow. It was one of many differences between the two of them; the Hoods' wealth didn't come from money, but from each other, and Sirius had always envied Fairfax that.

The damage Voldemort had done to this family was irreversible, and for what? How did killing Fairfax help his cause? The Hoods were no threat to his power. All Fairfax wanted to do was play Quiddtich and be with Mary. He wasn't a threat to anyone. Sirius had never been more ashamed of his Pureblood status – of his family's place among "The Sacred 28"- than he was that day. What a load of bollocks, a gimmick psychos like Voldemort peddled to gain power, and the idiots of the world drank it right up. Why couldn't they see no one would be safe, that no life was off-limits if he wasn't stopped?

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The next morning, Caradoc climbed to the battlements of the West Tower and with sore, stinging eyes, took in the snowy Hogwarts grounds. The world felt dead to him now, knowing how easily people could be ripped away. He couldn't believe Fairfax was really gone; how was it possible? He was so full of life – just bursting with energy and optimism. Who would Caradoc joke and laugh with now? Sure he had other friends, but he looked up to Fairfax. He was the only one with whom he felt comfortable letting his guard down. Tears filled his eyes for the millionth time that week as he dwelled on how robbed he felt, and how alone.

"Don't jump."

Caradoc startled and whipped about. "Oh, hi Phyllis. You feckin' scared the shite outta me."

"Sorry."

As she approached, he turned his head away and wiped furiously at his eyes, breathing deeply to get some control over himself. Spending Friday afternoons in the bakery with her had been an unexpected highlight to his week. School was dragging, and without Quidditch, it was easy feel a bit glum. He thought he'd be annoyed having to work with Phyllis, but she provided a lot of accidental entertainment. Spilt flour, mismeasurements of ingredients, and smears of chocolate on her mouth after denying she'd been sampling the icing - he owed most of his laughter that winter to her endearing awkwardness.

He was the one who knew what he was doing in the kitchen, he was the one who impressed everyone at the bakery, including Phyllis. He didn't want her to see him falling apart.

"What're ya doin' up here?" he asked, the cheer in his voice forced.

"I like to come here sometimes after I send my sister a letter. Watch the owls coming and going. Get breath of fresh air."

He didn't respond; he was too busy keeping it together. But the pain inside wouldn't relent.

"What are you doing up here?" she asked, tipping her head in an attempt to see his face.

"Just thinking about stuff… Fairfax…"

"Right… Do you want to talk about him?"

"Nah, I'm sure you've got better things to do than hear me whinge."

"Better things to do like revise for Potions? I'd rather not."

Caradoc let out a shaky sigh. "What can I say? He was here, and now he's not… And I'm angry."

Phyllis sat down against the wall. She pulled her knees to her chest and tugged at her ponytail. "I didn't know him personally, but he always seemed like a fun person to be with. You were always laughing when you were with him."

"I wish you'd had a chance to know him."

"Yeah, me too. Opal knew him a bit. Said he broke her heart fourth year."

"Oh please, they snogged behind the Quidditch stands one time and she was already naming their babies. Don't forget, he was fifteen. You'd have panicked as well."

"Course I would have. Opal was only fourteen though, and she had such a crush on him. I reckon she got a bit ahead of herself."

"A _lot_ ahead of herself."

"Well, yeah. We warned her…"

Caradoc couldn't believe how flippantly she was speaking of him. "What do you mean you _warned_ her? Like he was a heartless bastard or something?"

"No. No, Caradoc. That she would get her heart broken. Because, as you said, he was fifteen and of course he'd be scared off by talk of babies after one kiss. Even I knew that, and everyone knows how clueless I am. You know… about relationships. And _stuff_ …"

The tightness in Caradoc's stomach eased when it became clear she wasn't insulting his dead friend. He hated to admit it, but he wasn't exactly the paragon of experience when it came to love and sex. He'd only had one girlfriend, a cheerful Ravenclaw called Charity. It was during fifth year, and they kissed a lot, but he was too shy to suggest taking it further, and she didn't seem to want to anyway. After two months, things sort of fizzled, and a week after they'd split (she cried even though she was the one to suggest they end it), she'd moved on to Humphrey Bridger, a sixth year Ravenclaw.

After that, Caradoc focused on Quidditch, and didn't really think much about relationships until recently, when every single one of his mates was in one. (Well, except Peter, but he was never all that close to him to begin with so he didn't count.) Caradoc knew they hadn't acquired girlfriends overnight, or a boyfriend in Johnny B.'s case, but it felt like they had, and when Fairfax told him he was going to propose to Mary, he felt a twinge of selfish disappointment despite being happy for his best mate. He was starting to feel lonely, and yet he couldn't relate to girls or talk to them without feeling foolish and embarrassed. Now the one person who could help him was gone, the one with all the knowledge, and the only one he felt comfortable asking the question, _What is wrong with me?_

Without Fairfax, what would become of him? A shockwave of grief tore through him, and the urge to cry was so strong that fighting it only made it worse. These bouts of grief had been wrecking him since it happened, but they wouldn't stop coming, and he wished he could fast forward to a year from now, to see if the pain would be less. But a year from now would be a whole year without Fairfax, an absurd and distressing thought.

"He was going to marry his girlfriend," he croaked, the tears falling from his eyes. "Like, I'm not saying you shouldn't have warned Opal about getting her heart broken, but I don't want you think he was an arsehole either, because he wasn't. He loved Mary, he did."

Phyllis frowned in sympathy. "I believe you. You of all people should know."

Caradoc sniffled, but he couldn't stem the flow of tears. Feeling distraught, he sat down, leaving a small space between them. "He was my best mate."

A moment passed before Phyllis responded.

"My sister is my best mate. And I can't imagine how I'd cope if I lost her. So I know you're feeling horrible, and that you'll never stop missing him."

Caradoc nodded as he wiped his eyes with the heels of his palms. He was too self-conscious to admit it, but he liked having Phyllis there. She wasn't feeding him some shite about time healing all wounds, because at the moment, the wounds were so gaping and raw that it was hard to believe they'd ever heal. How would he pick up with classes again, revise for N.E.W.T.s, worry about employment and all the other mundane things required of him when there was no hope in sight?

"Thank you, Phyllis," he said after a while. "For listening to my blubbering."

"You're welcome."

He allowed himself a cautious glance at her, and noticed her eyes were wet. She looked tired, a bit scared even, like Voldemort had stolen some of her innocence as well. Lately, there was an air of maturity to her which wasn't there before, and she wasn't as jovial as she used to be. He knew her sister was an Auror, but he hadn't really given it much thought. It made sense now. Living every day knowing at any moment she might be the one to whom McGonagall broke tragic, life-altering news; it was enough to dampen the childlike spark in anyone.

"Your sister's an Auror, yeah?"

"Yep," she said. "A brilliant one. Which means she's the one they send on the most dangerous missions. Some days I feel like I might go mad with worry. I don't know how much more of this I can take."

He had an urge to put his arm round her, but couldn't bring himself to do it. He didn't want her to think he was making a move on her or something.

"Doesn't look to be ending anytime soon, does it?" he asked.

"No, but that doesn't mean it won't. Anything can change. My sister said it would only take one or two of his inner circle to betray him for his downfall to begin. Course she couldn't tell me much else."

"It'll be too late for Fax."

She nodded ruefully. "True. But he would want you to have a chance, wouldn't he? He would want you to live the life he never got."

"He would."

The clouds moved slowly across the bleak sky, and the air was cold, but Caradoc and Phyllis stayed in the tower, shielded from the harsh wind by the battlements circling them. He could tell she was crying by the soft, strained breath coming from her. He closed his eyes tight, but his tears found their way out anyway, and to his surprise, Phyllis scooted over and slipped an arm round his shoulder. It was the most comfort he had felt in a long time – being with someone who wasn't intimidated by his pain. Sometimes words were wasted on trying to make someone feel better when they weren't ready. She seemed to understand this, and he knew from then on he would never look at Phyllis Meadowes as the annoying, babyish girl again.

Instead, he would think of her as a friend.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The following Wednesday, Annabelle stood in the second level of the library with a mask on, bucket in one hand and Doxycide in the other. After enduring an entire week of carrying on, her emotions were catching up to her, and she stood there staring at what looked like a Doxy nest in the upper part of the drapes. She couldn't do it. Maybe if she had some help, but to take out an entire nest of Doxies on her own was asking too much. A lump rose in her throat as she blinked up at the buzzing lump in the drapes, and she surrendered, choosing instead to find a remote corner in the back of the library in which to hide for a few minutes.

"Boo!" Sirius whispered sharply, his eyes trailing down to find her on the floor. His smile faded fast. "What are you doing down there? Did a Doxy attack you again?"

She had startled slightly, even though she had sensed someone coming. Leaning over, she rested her forehead against her palm.

"No. Haven't sprayed them yet and I don't plan to. There's a giant bloody nest."

He squatted down beside her and handed her his robe, which had been slung over his shoulder like a beach towel. Then he removed the mask from her face and placed it over his nose and mouth. Picking up the bucket and spray, he asked, "In the curtains?"

"Yes, but Sirius, you'll get bit. There's too many of them."

"We used to get 'em all the time when I was a kid. Regulus and I would compete over how many we could stun. Be right back."

When he returned, he plunked a bucketful of paralysed Doxies on the floor and sat beside her. She took a cautious peek. "Wow, you're good."

"As I said, years of practice."

"How'd you know where to find me? The Map?"

"Yep."

"Stalker."

"It's easier to sneak up on you if I know exactly where you are."

"Yes, I reckon it is." She pushed a hand through her hair and turned to him. A small smile formed on her face and she took his hand. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He squeezed her hand and rubbed his thumb over hers. "I wish I could take your pain away."

"I could same the same for yours."

Two students came round the bend and began perusing the shelf across from them. "Want to go somewhere else?" Sirius asked. "Hide for bit? Wigworthy won't notice you're gone."

"All right."

Sirius stood and grabbed the bucket. "Let me take care of these. Meet me in the second floor storage cupboard."

Inside the storage cupboard, Annabelle slumped on a surplus desk and waited. There was a narrow window casting light into the small, crowded space, illuminating the dust as it floated past. Thoughts of life and death had exhausted her, and she ached inside knowing the answers wouldn't come. She rested her head against the stone wall and closed her eyes.

A moment later the door eased open and Sirius stepped inside, shutting it carefully behind him. He sat on a desk across from her and tapped her foot with his. She opened her eyes, giving him a once over.

"Why aren't you wearing your robe? So you can show off your arse to me?"

Sirius chuckled. "Not exactly. It feels like prison garb. When school's finished I never want to wear a robe again."

"What if your job requires you to wear one?"

"I'll quit."

"You would, wouldn't you."

Her amusement was short-lived, and the stoic look returned as she gazed at the dust particles wandering between them. There was little to smile about lately, but he didn't want her to lose hope.

"We still have each other," he said.

She looked at him. "For how long?"

"Annie, no one knows the answer to that, with or without Voldemort."

"The odds of death have certainly increased because of him, yeah?"

"Then we need to live in spite of him, by our rules, not his."

Her face was still drawn as she nodded slowly, and he wanted so much to give her some relief from her sorrow. To bring her out of it long enough to see there were still things worth smiling about.

"Remember that time I got kicked out of the library?" he asked.

"Which time? There are several that come to mind."

"Third year. When James levitated me to the rafters. Were you working that day?"

She brightened a little. "Ah, yes. You were literally hanging from the rafters. What possessed you?

"A dare from James to do twenty chin-ups. Turns out it's rather difficult to do chin-ups on those massive wooden beams."

"You managed to do it though."

"And were you impressed?"

"Not really."

"Huh. Hoping I'd fall, then?

"Fall? No. Although I do remember thinking if you fell it would serve you right.

"I see. My attempts to impress were all in vain."

"No they weren't. You impressed everyone else. In fact, I remember some applause…"

"The applause is what alerted Wigworthy."

"Never saw you run so fast in your life."

He gave her foot another tap with his. "Honestly, you weren't the least bit impressed at how long I held on?"

"Nope. I thought you were an arse." Sirius feigned a frown and Annabelle's eyes widened. "Oh come on," she maintained, "not as though you were impressed with anything I did either."

"I was impressed by your ability to ruin a potion in seconds flat. Everyone was."

She sent him a squinty-eyed grin. "Why thank you."

"I was _not_ impressed with your clean detention record or the ease with which you ignored me…"

"Hmm, sounds you were having trouble ignoring _me_."

He suppressed the urge to smile. "Perhaps. Not sure why, though. I thought you were prissier than the muggle queen."

"And I thought you were more arrogant than Minister Minchum."

He tipped his head back and laughed, and she felt her own laughter bubble up in response.

"And I was wrong about you," he said.

"As was I about you."

"And I did think you were pretty. And good. And bright in every subject besides Potions."

"I can admit I thought you were attractive. And daring. And bright in every subject - full stop."

Sirius' face lit up. "You thought I was fit, yeah? You thought I was fit!" He hopped off his desk and did a little dance in which he gyrated his hips like a wonky Elvis. _"She thought I was fit,"_ he sang.

Her cheeks flooded with warmth, but she held her head high. "I think it's a universally held opinion. But I also thought it unfortunate such looks were wasted on a git."

He pretended to fall toward her, catching himself with his hands on her desk, his face centimetres from hers. "And what do you think now?"

Her eyes drew from his mouth to his eyes, and she laced her fingers together on the back of his neck. "I think you're gorgeous, inside and out, and I adore you." She kissed his forehead. "And I admit, I even adore that little git I thought you were. He challenged my convictions, that's for sure."

He closed his eyes as their foreheads touched, and his lips found hers.

"Mmm, wait…" she said. "Your turn to retract your comment about me being a priss." She raised her eyebrows and waited. "Go on then."

"Right," he said, his hands still at her sides on the desk. "I think you're only half as prissy as I originally thought." She crossed her arms over herself and huffed, and Sirius, grinning, was quick to assuage her. "Let me finish – you're infinitely more fun than I ever thought possible, and looking at you right now," he ran a hand over the side of her face, "you're the most enchantingly beautiful girl I've ever seen."

"Flattery will get you nowhere."

His lips brushed against hers. "I mean it."

She took his face in her hands and kissed him, her thumbs grazing his cheekbones as her legs hooked round his hips. How love could change the way people saw each other, she thought… and how much more beautiful they became when viewed through loving eyes. She didn't consider herself unattractive; to be honest, she was quite satisfied with her appearance, but enchantingly beautiful? She wanted to kiss him all day.

"I love you," she whispered, "even if you lay on the charm thicker than cream on a scone."

"I mean every word I say."

Her hands raked through his hair as she kissed him, and he hugged her body flush against his. He felt breathless when she broke the kiss. "But I'm not prissy," she said with a pout, her nose rubbing against his. "I play Quidditch!"

"Don't fight it, Annie. It's your destiny."

He kissed her again as he unfastened her robe, and her lips pursed into a knowing grin. She lowered her arms for him to push it off her shoulders, and he moved to the hem of her sweater, lifting it over her head before their lips met again. He knew they were taking a chance with the removal of clothing – Wigworthy might come looking for her, or Peeves could drop by and give them away, but he wanted her so much he could scarcely stand it. The short, cold days of winter led to long, colder nights, and death was following them like a shadow. But right now in this cluttered, dusty storage cupboard, they were warm and alive, and it felt so good to push the world away and touch her, to feel her breath on his skin and her hands roving his body, and to see the look of euphoria in her eyes when she gazed back at him, if only for a brief interval.

"What are we doing?" she whispered against his lips as her fingers undid the buttons on his shirt.

"Not sure, but I don't want to stop."

She pulled his shirt open. "But we have to."

"Then stop undressing me." He began unbuttoning her shirt as her mouth found his chest.

"Really?" she asked, her lips grazing his collarbone. He let out sound like a moan mixed with a sigh, and Merlin how she loved that sound, and his skin, and his scent, and the feeling of his hair as it tickled her cheek.

"Of course not," he breathed, his head against her shoulder as he unhooked her bra. A moment later she pressed herself against him, and his trousers became achingly tight.

"If you knew what I wanted to do to you right now," she said, kissing his neck, but stopped to whimper softly as his hands moved down torso. "You'd never call me prissy again."

"Remind me to start practising Legilimancy."

"This is torture," she whispered, knowing they couldn't take it much further. Class was starting in… "What time is it?"

Sirius glanced at his watched from over her shoulder. "Shite."

"I knew it."

"We can skive off."

"Both of us missing from the same class? What's our excuse?"

"We'll think of one later."

His hands slid up under her skirt and all ability to reason deserted her.

"All right," she sighed.

An urgent knock on the door startled them, and Annabelle responded to it with a timid, "Yes? Who's there?"

"Madame Wigworthy is looking for you," a young voice replied.

"Must have seen me come in here," she whispered to Sirius as she hurriedly started dressing herself. "I'll be right there," she called to the door.

"Doesn't mean anyone saw me," he said. "I'll stay here for a few minutes so no one sees us leaving together."

When she was finished dressing, she smoothed her hair, then looked at Sirius as he casually buttoned his shirt. She was reminded of the models in Siren Magazine. He shot her a smouldering look and it took all her strength not to pounce on him.

"Right," she said, giving her head a shake to snap herself out of her amorous trance. "Must go. Now."

She planted one more desperate kiss on his lips before breaking away and slipping out the door. Sirius felt dizzy, and had to sit down while he fastened his tie. He didn't know how he would make it through class with her next to him, but no doubt they would be late for lunch. And at the very least, she'd allowed him to pull her out of her grief for a time, and that alone was worth being painfully turned on with an hour-long class ahead of him.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Pssst. Padfoot. Wake up," James voiced whispered sharply.

Sirius turned over with a groan. "What is it?" Then realising James was waking him in the middle of the night, his eyes sprang open and he sat up straight. "What is it?!"

"Shhh, calm the fuck down. It's nothing. I'm starving is all."

Sirius let out a breath of relief and fell back onto his pillow. "You woke me up to tell me you're hungry?"

"Let's go to the kitchens. I'm going to wake Moony and Wormtail."

Sirius' eyes closed and he felt himself drifting off, but then he felt a hand on his shoulder, shaking it. "Come on, let's go."

He opened his eyes again. "Oh, you meant it. Right." Sitting up, he gave his stomach a scratch and swung his legs out of bed. Remus and Peter were stepping into their shoes. He pulled his hair back with a purple elastic Annabelle had left there and put on his trainers in case they had to run at some point.

But with their Map in hand and years of experience under their belts, they made it to the kitchens without a hitch. And just like old times, they sat at the end of the same table, devouring what was left of the evening's pudding and recalling their greatest feats of mischief.

"Remember first year when you hexed Lucius Malfoy with the Voice Mutation charm?" James asked Sirius.

"Good old Vox Mutatum," Sirius replied.

"Merlin that was brilliant," said Peter. "I can still hear him screaming out in Professor McGonagall's voice, " _Which one of you sodding Gryffindorks did this to me! Come forward you coward and answer for yourself!"_

"The entire Great Hall was in hysterics," said Remus. "Even some of the professors were laughing."

James smiled, nostalgia washing over him. "I thought you were a genius."

Sirius smirked. "What do you mean 'were?' I _am_ a bloody genius."

"I just couldn't believe you could cast a charm like that after being in school for what? Two months?"

"Actually, I learnt it from Regulus. He would use it on me every now and then… whenever he was bored, the fuckwit. I'd be mid-sentence and suddenly be talking like my Aunt Druella."

"That's right. Regulus knew it was you straightaway, didn't he?"

"Sure he did. He warned me not to mess with the upperclassmen, especially Slytherins. We all know how well I heeded that warning."

"Remember that duel third year when Moony made Carrow cluck like a chicken?" asked Peter.

"We almost got murdered from laughing so hard," said James. "Rosier sent me flying into a suit of armour and I still couldn't stop laughing."

"Or the time James followed Snivellus under the cloak," offered Sirius, "tripping him all about the castle." They fell into fits of laughter. "You tripped him five times on the way to his table at lunch. And every time he tripped, he'd look all perplexed and irritated."

"You could tell he was embarrassed, though," said Remus.

"He got me back at dinner."

"Right," said Sirius. "He cursed you with the Stinging Jinx. Several times if I remember correctly."

James rubbed his cheek as though remembering the pain of the curse. "All over my face."

Sirius scowled. "The psycho resorted to dark magic from the start."

"After June we'll be free of the greasy git," assured Remus.

"To think," said Peter, "I'll never have to see that oily mass of hair up close ever again."

"I'll drink to that," said James, raising his glass of pumpkin juice. They clinked glasses.

"The best was the hairy hands," Remus said with a laugh. "The looks on their faces were priceless!"

"Bertram Aubrey's head!"

"Opal Ross's hair standing up for a week!"

"Malachi Malfoy and the lizard breath!"

Sirius was hiccoughing from laughing so hard. "No, no! The best was the time we used the Simulus Charm on the Starthistle plant to make it scream like a Mandrake in the corridor."

"Oh yeah," said James. "Everyone covered their ears and started running in a panic! Mingus slammed into Wilkes and they both fell flat on their arses!"

"Even McGonagall covered her ears," wheezed Peter through his giggling.

"Ahh," sighed Remus, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. "We had some fun."

James smiled wistfully. "We did indeed."

"No regrets?" asked Sirius.

"Eh," said James. "I reckon I took it a bit far with Snape that day by the lake."

The boys traded pensive glances, then burst out in unison, _"Nah!"_ before cracking up again.

"Thought for sure you mucked it up permanently with Lily after that," said Remus, laughing.

"Maybe she secretly enjoyed seeing Snivellus' pants," sneered Peter.

James sent him a threatening look. "I'm going to pretend you didn't say that. Wait… no I'm not." He launched a forkful of blackberry crumble at him, hitting his mark right between Peter's wide-set eyes.

"I was just joking!" Peter whined as he wiped the berries from his face.

"The truth is," he went on, ignoring Peter's grumbling, "she just couldn't resist these bad boys." He flexed his biceps, giving each one a peck. "Enough said."

They went still for a moment before bursting into laughter, James included. The truth was, they knew James was a decent lad despite some regrettable acts, and they knew Lily saw the good in him as well. But it was still fun to tease him.

"We should pull one more prank," said Peter. "A big one, for old time's sake."

"Like what?" asked Sirius.

"Like, I don't know… break into Filch's office and steal back all the dung bombs he confiscated over the years. Set them off all at once."

"But then we'd have smell 'em," said James.

"Yeah, dung bombs are foul," decided Remus. "They were fun when we were twelve, but…"

Peter shrugged. "That's all I've got."

Sirius could think of several pranks which would have kept him doubled over in hysterics when he was younger. But he no longer felt like disturbing the entire castle, upsetting first years, and dragging professors out of their beds. And he didn't want to steal a second of sleep from Annabelle, whose nerves had been draining her. Maybe this was what people meant when they talked about getting old.

"When did it stop being fun?" he asked.

Peter raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Pulling pranks?"

After a moment's contemplation, Remus was the first to answer. "When we started thinking more about girls than pranks."

Sirius considered this theory and concluded it was correct. The pranking era came to an end shortly after James humiliated Snivellus, and the girls became the focus of their time and thoughts.

"Huh," he said. "You have a point."

It was a bittersweet realisation, and they sat in silence for a moment as their minds wandered back through their shared history. How fast childhood was discarded, left behind for more complex and heartfelt adventures. They should have been excited, venturing out into the world as adults, but Voldemort's growing presence in their lives gave them reservations, and the past in all its wild naïveté was looking quite appealing at the moment.

"You're the best mates anyone could ever ask for," said James, suddenly emotional. "And before you laugh and take the piss, I mean it. I hope we live close to each other and raise our families together and all that stuff."

"Then we will," said Sirius, feeling as strongly as James about not parting ways with his mates. "When we're old we can grow beards like Dumbledore and compete to see whose is the longest."

James snorted a laugh. "We can have races to see who can hobble faster with his cane."

Peter slumped sideways, having fallen asleep mid-conversation, and rolled to the floor. The other three erupted in laughter and he couldn't help but chuckle as well.

"Time to head back I think," suggested Remus.

No one knew if they would sit in the kitchens at three AM again, but adulthood was breathing down their necks and they placed their dishes in the sink before quietly letting themselves out.

Gone were the days when four young boys fit under one cloak, so they took their chances in the hope that no one, not even Filch would be awake at this early hour. Their past experience with sneaking out told them he wouldn't be. To be sure they weren't being followed, they stopped on the fourth floor and James lit his wand, checking the map for any signs of danger. His eyes were drawn to activity in Slytherin dungeon.

"Oh my eyes," he complained, followed by an exaggerated gagging noise.

"What," asked Sirius, pulling the map closer.

"Slytherin."

It took Sirius no time to see what he was referring to. The names Evan Rosier and Teagan Travers were overlapping and quaking ever so slightly in the Slytherin boys' dormitory.

"Didn't need to see that," said Sirius.

"What?" demanded Peter. "What is it? Let me see!"

"Nothing important," said James. "Apparently Teagan Travers didn't heed Gavin's advice is all."

"Evan getting his end away is he?" asked Peter a bit too loudly.

Sirius gave him shove. "Belt up before someone hears you!"

"You're the one shouting!"

"I am not!"

"Both of you, _shhh_!" warned Remus.

Sirius narrowed his eyes in huff but said no more. He wouldn't trade Peter for another roommate, but Merlin he could be annoying sometimes. He didn't mind him so much when they were younger, but Peter seemed to have missed the maturity train, whereas the rest of them had long departed the station.

They walked faster, the thrill of doing something forbidden creeping up on them as it had so many times before, and they made it to the sixth floor with ease. They could almost taste their triumph when James checked the Map again, only to see Filch's name rounding the corner and stopping directly in front of theirs.

He jerked his head up, his glasses falling askew. "Mischief managed," he muttered, tapping the map with his wand. He righted his glasses.

"Ah-ha!" said Filch. "Caught ya. Wha's that parchment you've got there?"

"Just a piece of parchment."

"Let me see it."

James hesitated, his eyes darting to the others. Remus nodded faintly, so James handed him the now blank Map. Filch inspected it, turning it over, holding it up to the dim light of a nearby torch.

"You see, Mr. Filch?" said Sirius. "A blank parchment. Can we have it back now?"

"Why are you traipsing the castle at this hour with a blank parchment in hand, eh? No, I think Professor McGonagall will want to have a look at this."

"And why would she want to look at blank parchment?" James asked slowly, his irritation evident.

"I saw you touching it with your wand. You're up to something. Now get to your dormitory."

"Are you going to report us?" asked Peter.

"You'd better believe it!" Filch replied, a sinister cackle emitting from him until he started coughing. "Go on with you!"

"But I need it for my Charms assignment!" said Sirius. "It's all I've got left. Please can I have it?"

"He'll fail Charms without it," added James. "Can you live with that, Mr. Filch?"

"I said _BE GONE WITH YOU!"_

"Fuck," James muttered, storming up the stairs.

"Miserable arse," Sirius said under his breath as he eyed Filch.

They returned to the tower in disbelief, a numbness settling over them. The Map in which they had invested years of time and energy, the artefact that encompassed their youth, was gone, snatched away by a Squib who had been on a mission to thwart them since first year.

"Maybe we can get it back," said Peter.

"And maybe he'll give it to Dumbledore who'll figure it out in an instant," retorted Remus.

"Or he'll stuff it in that fortress of a filing cabinet," bemoaned Sirius. "Fuck! How did this happen?"

But no one had an answer. It just did, and for the first time in their almost seven years at Hogwarts, Filch had beaten them at their own game, and the defeat was bitter.

 


	18. Great Timing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, everyone… trying to catch up after the holidays and a nasty illness has not been easy. Please forgive any typos.
> 
> Song mentioned in this chapter - "Báidín Fheilimí" – if you want to hear it, I recommend listening to the Sinéad O'Connor version on YouTube. You can also hear Bono singing it in the background during a scene in the film Gangs of New York (also on YouTube.) It's entirely in Irish Gaelic, but it's a sweet little song nonetheless. :)

"So… the map is gone?" asked Lily. None of the four boys appeared to be teasing, but she could never be sure with them. "As in, never to be seen again?"

"Not unless Dumbledore decides to give it back," muttered James. He pushed up his glasses and continued swirling a corner of his toast in the yolk of his fried egg.

"Stop playing with your food," said Lily absently, her mother's words regurgitated from her before she could stop herself. James tossed the soggy toast onto his plate.

"I still can't believe all those nights of work, down the drain," whinged Sirius. "That thing was a masterpiece. A bloody testament to our knowledge of this place. It was meant to be passed down through generations."

"Now it's probably collecting dust in Dumbledore's office," said Remus. "Or possibly McGonagall's."

"What if Filch still has it?" asked Peter. "We could get it back!"

"Be real _,"_ said James. "He probably ran to Dumbledore with it straight away."

"Well there's no way Dumbledore will figure it out," said Peter. "He'd have to guess the incantation. I mean, he's brilliant, but he's not that brilliant."

Sirius scowled. "Which means when he can't figure it out and it insults him repeatedly, he'll probably vanish it and it'll _really_ be gone forever."

"We could make another one," suggested Peter. "We already know all the passages, and-"

"Did you forget how long it took to draw it, let alone put the charms on it?" James questioned. "We'll have finished school before it's completed."

Peter frowned. "Oh well. I guess that's that then."

"Would Dumbledore really vanish it before talking to you about it?" asked Annabelle.

"Why wouldn't he?" said James.

"Seems like he'd be curious about it is all. Like he'd want to ask you what it was."

"True," agreed Alice. "You might still get it back."

"Doubt it," said Sirius.

"Think positively," said Johnny B. "Maybe Dumbledore doesn't care about some old parchment and he'll give it back, along with detentions for being out past curfew."

"Oh sure," sneered Peter. "Let's hope we get detentions."

"It'd be worth it to get the Map back, wouldn't it?" asked Johnny B.

But the boys' only response was to pout and play with their food some more.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The day passed and neither did they receive detention, nor was the Map returned to them. By evening, they had given up hope and collapsed in the common room, defeated.

"It's a just a fecking map," said Caradoc. "Get some perspective."

"Just a map?" repeated James. " _Just a map?"_

"Exactly, it's just a map! There's worse things to be upset about, yeah?"

Everyone fell silent, as it was no mystery to what Caradoc was referring. He'd lost his best friend, so hearing them whine about a piece of parchment must have been maddening to him. And James knew Caradoc was right. Even though it wasn't "just a map" - it was years of bonding and friendship, a souvenir of their youth - it wasn't a person either. The fun they had making it would always be theirs, as would their friendship. The people who made the Map were far more important to James than the Map itself, and he still had them, and hopefully he always would.

"You have a point," he said. "I guess it felt good being upset over something relatively minor for change. Stupid, I know."

Caradoc relaxed a little, since everyone knew James' suffering had been ongoing for over two months.

"Not stupid," whispered Lily, taking his hand. "The Map was a great accomplishment. Something to be proud of."

"Look on the bright side," said Johnny B. "You lot prefer to live on the edge, and sneaking out just became a whole lot riskier."

"I suppose," said James, but just like pulling pranks, sneaking out after curfew had lost much of its appeal. Maybe because it'd been done many times and was no longer a challenge, or maybe because N.E.W.T.s were approaching and he had to earn Exceptional on the Potions, Transfiguration, Charms, and Herbology tests to even apply for the Quidditch Medicine training programme. And of course, Head Boy duties took up a large chunk of his time, and finding time to be with Lily was increasingly difficult, since she was just as busy as he was.

He looked at his friends – Sirius squished in a chair with Annabelle, holding her hand, the two of them having a private conversation with their eyes; Remus checking his watch, most likely calculating how much time he had to see Claire before his walkthrough; Peter staring longingly at the chess board, probably hoping for Benjy Fenwick or Septima Scroggie to make an appearance– and another thought occurred to him. His mates felt the same way he did.

"Right then," he said, resolved to move on. He turned to Lily. "Want to go to the library for a bit?"

"Sure. Let me get my books."

And after that, the Map became a fond memory, and nothing more.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Friday was the final day of internships, and it was met with mixed feelings from the seventh-years. Alice didn't mind, since she had already started her Auror training in the afternoons, so for her it wasn't really an ending. Lily was happy to be done with Fortescue's, having found the ice cream industry unexpectedly dull, and she wanted to focus on other possibilities, like Women's Healing and Care. The idea of delivering babies thrilled her, and she was determined to get into the programme at St. Mungo's. Like James, earning Exceptionals on her N.E.W.T.s became her priority.

Sirius didn't care either way about the end of his internship. His last day was spent on the usual brainless tasks, followed by a "leaving do" wherein MacFarlan closed the office early and took them all to a pub in Diagon Alley. MacFarlan, after several shots of Firewhisky, had hinted to Sirius about a possible job offer, and since Sirius couldn't think of anything else he'd rather do besides play professional Quidditch, he thought he'd probably accept. In the back of his mind, a little voice told him he would be bored working there day in and day out, but he ignored it, since he reckoned he'd be bored at any 9-5 job. It wasn't that he didn't want to work. Not working would be dull as well. But he preferred action of some kind, a challenge, and besides Quidditch, there wasn't much to fulfil that adrenaline rush he so craved that didn't require him to answer to the pompous, idiotic Minister of Magic.

"You have a problem with authority," said Annabelle once. "You don't like being told what to do, especially when you know how to do it better."

"Can't help it."

"It's all right. I think it's sexy."

"Yeah?"

"Of course," she had said. "And it's certainly better than being a weak-willed puppet like so many others. Lily said one of the top ice cream makers lets the boss walk all over him, and would run and tell whenever a colleague said anything critical of the company or when someone was a few minutes late to work. Even if they had a good reason, like a sick child to tend to or something."

"What a rat," muttered Sirius. "Have no fear, that will never be me. Or you either, I reckon."

"I can respect a boss that respects me, but I won't kiss up to anyone or try to ruin innocent people's careers over minor things."

"That's my Annie."

As the days wore on, Sirius was more and more grateful for their inheritances, because with the way world was, at least they wouldn't have to worry about surviving when a boss sacked them for not licking his or her boots.

Remus also had a provisional job offer, dependent on his N.E.W.T.s, which he would willingly accept despite feeling uneasy about it. The paper was growing more biased and it was disheartening to know he would have to be a part of manipulating the public's perception. But he had no choice, as a job was a job, and he needed to hold onto it for as long as he could. Maybe his boss would be understanding of his condition once he saw what a hard worker Remus was, what a dedicated employee. Maybe he wouldn't mind that he needed a few days off a month, because Remus would do overtime to make up for it. How could an employer sack someone who was as committed to his work as Remus planned to be? Maybe there was hope for him yet.

Annabelle was the only one who was down about her internship ending, even though she was practically guaranteed a job come June. The department needed so much help, and without her and Esmeralda, Marlene would be drowning in paperwork, and more stressed than she already was. Her skin was ashen and her hair was always a mess, wound into a chaotic bun on top of her head, and she looked like she hadn't had a full night sleep in months.

"Maybe you should take a day off and visit a spa," suggested Esmeralda. "Get pampered, like."

Marlene stared blankly at her, and Annabelle held her breath.

"You know, get a facial and a massage…" Esmeralda trailed off.

A long maniacal cackle emitted from Marlene. When it ended, she sighed and stood up, shuffling through some papers on her desk. "Oh Esmeralda. You've a sense a humour, haven't you."

Esmeralda sent Annabelle a perplexed look, and Annabelle tried not to laugh.

Later that afternoon, Marlene introduced them to another facet of her job, home visits. The department had received notice of children coming and going from a flat in Knockturn Alley, but no adult to be seen. Annabelle and Esmeralda were not prepared for the curses that flew at them when the magical law enforcement officer had to blast the door down, but once Marlene calmed the ten-year-old casting them, they relaxed enough to untie the boy, no more than seven years old, from the radiator. He was dirty, and soaked in his own urine. Three other children crawled out from under the bed, their fear palpable.

After much questioning, they learnt the children's mother had left with a man called Mr. Yaxley - her friend, the children said. He had tied their brother up because of a recent Werewolf bite, which happened while in Mr. Yaxley's care, and as much as she tried, their older sister could not undo the knots.

"Said he was a danger to us all. My mum wanted to take him to St. Mungo's but Mr. Yaxley wouldn't let her. She was gone the next day. So was Mr. Yaxley."

"And your father?"

"Haven't seen him in years."

"Why didn't you seek help?" asked Marlene.

"Mum left a note saying they'd be back for us - not to leave. What if she came back and we weren't here? Or what if they hurt my brother for being a Werewolf?"

"Has he transformed yet?"

"No, it only happened last week."

Eventually, they escorted the family to the Ministry where the Auror department became involved, and the boy was taken to St. Mungo's. Marlene managed to secure a placement with a colleague willing to take in all of the children until their mother was found – _if_ she was found. She was even willing to take in the werewolf child, but only if someone would be available to take him off her hands during the next full moon.

"She's a blessing," said Marlene, "always willing to help when I can't find relatives straight away."

"The children must be so frightened without their mum," said Esmeralda.

"And rightfully so," said Marlene. "This Yaxley fellow has Death Eater written all over him. Likely had plans to come back for the children."

"Do you think the mother went willingly?" asked Annabelle, who was starting the file on the family as she spoke.

"No, nor do I think that boy being attacked by a werewolf was an accident."

A chill went up Annabelle's spine. "Why would he want the child to be bitten?"

"Well, rumour has it Voldemort has connections to the more unscrupulous members of the Werewolf community. Maybe they're recruiting. They like to start them young so they don't know any better when it comes to infecting others. Auror Moody reckons he tried to convince the mother to abandon the child after he was bit so he could turn him over to the Werewolves, and she probably grew suspicious of him. He couldn't have her reporting him, so…"

"Why didn't he just turn him over to the Werewolves the night he was bit?" asked Esmeralda.

"Because a missing child would shine a spotlight on him, since he was the only adult with the boy when he was allegedly attacked."

Esmeralda shuddered. "Do you think this Yaxley bloke killed their mum?"

Marlene rubbed her temples, a worn expression on her face. "Where Voldemort's involved, I'd say it's likely."

With a sad shrug, she grabbed a stack of folders and before she strode out into the main room, she said, "Let's keep this quiet for now. We have to protect the children's privacy."

Annabelle could feel her supervisor's frustration as she watched her patchwork robes swish behind her on the way out. At least Esmeralda didn't mention taking a "spa day" again. As if a facial and a massage would cure the vicarious pain Marlene felt every time she looked into the eyes of yet another child whose family was altered beyond repair. As if it would alleviate her fears for her own children. As if a "spa day" would stop a mad man.

"I don't think I could do this for a living," Esmeralda blurted out, her face pale and her eyes wide. "That little boy, the w-werewolf? I thought I was going to be sick. Like, he's so little and innocent. How could anyone do something so- so _horrible_?"

Annabelle was startled to see tears in Esmeralda's eyes. "I don't know, but they have to be stopped," she said gently. "Don't you see?"

With a subtle nod, Esmeralda looked back to the file she was working on. A small surge of relief rose in Annabelle, as it seemed Esmeralda was finally getting the picture.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Despite efforts by the staff of the Games and Sport Department to keep Sirius and Jacoby at the pub all evening, they returned to the Ministry to meet Annabelle and Esmeralda as originally planned. Alice and Peter had left for Fortescue's, which had become the meeting place on Fridays before heading back to Hogwarts. While Sirius and Jacoby waited, they talked about Quidditch scores and music. Jacoby had a love for all things punk rock, going on and on about muggle and wizard bands alike. When half-five arrived but the girls still hadn't, they found their way to the Department of Social Welfare. Through the glass doors, they could see there were only a few employees left, and Sirius wasn't sure if he should knock or walk straight in.

A woman with what looked to be a bird's nest on her head did a double-take when she saw them, and immediately came to the door. Upon closer inspection, Sirius realised the bird's nest was simply her hair, wound on top of her head.

"Can I help?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am," he answered. "Are Annabelle and Esmeralda still here?"

The woman froze. "What time is it?"

"Half-five," said Jacoby.

"Oh no! We lost track of time. McGonagall will go through the roof!" The woman hurried away, and Sirius and Jacoby exchanged looks of mild amusement. As the glass door closed, she shouted, "Wait there!"

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Annabelle and Esmeralda had been working on the children's files, while Marlene was in and out of the office, being pulled in twenty different directions. Her stress was contagious, as Annabelle found herself sweating as she worked, a gnawing tension in the pit of her stomach. She couldn't get the image of those scared little faces out of her head, or their mother, most likely abducted by a Death Eater.

Neither girl was paying attention to the time when Marlene burst into the office. "Oh my word! I forgot to send you back to school! Go! Before McGonagall notices!" As the girls stacked the folders on the desk, she said, "Thank Merlin your friends showed up looking for you or else I might have kept you here all night! Gosh I don't know where my head is!"

She practically chased them out of the office, Annabelle noticing a few staff members still working away at their desks. It was a job that didn't end, and she imagined Marlene spending many late nights in her office catching up.

"What was keeping you?" asked Sirius, who was waiting in the corridor with Jacoby.

"Lost track of time. You smell like smoke."

"Don't worry – I didn't start smoking again. MacFarlan took us to the pub."

"Oh how lovely for you," said Esmeralda as they stepped onto the lift, her eyes narrowed. "Marlene took us to a flat full of smelly abandoned children."

Jacoby muffled his chuckle with the back of his wrist. "Sorry," he said when Esmeralda didn't smile. "It sounded funny… the way you said it. Not that smelly, abandoned children are funny…"

"Where to?" asked the lift attendant.

"Atrium, please," replied Sirius.

"It was bloody awful," Esmeralda informed the boys as she was thrown against Annabelle. "One was all tied up – he'd peed himself like, and-"

"Shhh," said Annabelle, clutching the golden handle as the lift jumped to a halt and doors opened. She motioned her head toward the lift attendant. "We're not supposed to talk about it, remember?"

They made their way to the staff fire places.

"Oh. Right," said Esmeralda. "Me and my big gob. I'm not going to lie – I'm glad this internship is over. I know they do important work, but, I don't know. It was so _depressing_."

"Yeah?" said Sirius. "What're you going to do instead?"

"Don't know really. Maybe I'll be a wedding planner, or a clothing designer. Whatever I decide, it'll be far away from Voldemort."

"Good luck with that," said Sirius, his tone ominous.

Esmeralda shot him a haughty look, but Sirius remained unmoved.

"Eh, let's worry about careers in June," said Jacoby as he slipped an arm round her, presumably to break the sudden tension.

Moments later they were exiting the massive stone fireplace in the Great Hall.

Annabelle sucked in her breath. "Marlene chased us out so quickly we didn't even get to say goodbye!"

"She probably forgot we aren't coming back next week," said Esmeralda.

"I hope not. Maybe McGonagall will let us – I mean maybe she'll let _me_ – go back next week to give her hand. Just in case she's expecting us."

Esmeralda looked guiltily at the floor. Annabelle knew she was torn between wanting to help and wanting to run for cover. She couldn't fault her for it, especially since Esmeralda was surrounded by Voldemort supporters on a daily basis. It couldn't be easy opposing him in that environment, but at least she had Jacoby and Teagan for support.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The professors had been burying the seventh-years in so many assignments that the weekend had lost some of its magic. There was no more waiting until Sunday night to rush through their work, and the pressure to prepare for N.E.W.T.s was mounting. Resigned to an evening of reading and revising, they climbed the stairs to Gryffindor tower, their conversation mostly consisting of which subject to start on first, and if _Veritas_ would be on the radio or not.

"If those little kids have that wizard-pop rubbish on the wireless…" grumbled James. "Veritas is more important than Destiny Adorabella."

"I'll ask them to turn it," said Lily.

James was on edge lately, and why shouldn't he be, Lily thought. Multiple deaths and being attacked with the Cruciatus Curse had taken their toll. And losing the Map to Filch, as much as he was trying not care, was like salt in his wounds. The amount of school work they had to complete was enough to do anyone's head in, and the curser was still on the loose. Every night, their walkthroughs were fraught with tension, not knowing if they would be hit with excruciating pain again, or Merlin forbid, something worse.

"We can't miss that show – _if_ it's on, that is," James said. "I hope Mercury and Lux are all right..."

The programme didn't adhere to a set schedule, usually coming on once or twice a week at half seven. It had been a fortnight since the last broadcast, and everyone was eager for it to return, not only because it was their only reliable news source, but because if it didn't come back, they would fear something had happened to Mercury and Lux.

As soon as they entered the common room, Annabelle seized with alarm. "My wand!" she said, patting her robes all over. "Did I leave it in the Great Hall?"

"Did you have it out at dinner?" asked Alice.

"No, I don't think so – maybe it fell out of my robes and I didn't hear it?"

"Let's retrace our steps," said Sirius, doing his best to mask his own exhaustion. "We'll be right back," he called to the others.

"I hope Veritas doesn't start without us," said Annabelle as she climbed through the portrait hole.

There were still plenty of students about the castle as some had study groups or club meetings to get to, so Sirius and Annabelle weren't worried about being attacked by the mystery curser. Annabelle was consumed with finding her wand, and as they walked, she kept trying to summon it back to her.

By the time they reached their table in the Great Hall, it was clear that it wasn't in the castle, unless some maggot picked it up and brought it back to his or her dormitory to keep as a spare.

"Shite!" she cried out. "Great timing, too. We have a Charms exam on Monday!"

"Are you sure you didn't leave it in your room?"

"Positive. It's been with me since breakfast –" She stopped abruptly, her jaw dropping open. "The Ministry. I took it out in Marlene's office to strengthen a weak shelf."

"Why were you fixing shelves?" he scoffed. "There's a maintenance staff for that sort of thing."

She knew he didn't mean for it to happen, but every now and then, what was left of the Pureblood in him peeked out to wave hello. And oddly enough, she found it rather endearing, perhaps because she knew it didn't define him.

"Listen you," she said with a grin, "I fixed it because it was bothering me. It's wasn't a big deal, just a quick charm, but we were so frazzled I must have set the wand down and forgot it when she rushed us out this evening."

"Right, well, the Ministry is still open. It's only just after seven."

"But Marlene's office will be locked. And we can't leave the castle."

"So you're planning to go all weekend without a wand?"

"I suppose I'll have to."

"Annie, let's go back and get it. We'll be back here well before curfew if we go now, and maybe we can still catch _Veritas_."

There wasn't a mark of fear or hesitation on him, and from the tiredness in his voice, she could tell he wasn't using her misplaced wand as an excuse to break a rule. To him, it was logical. You forget your wand at the Ministry, you go back and get it, despite being knackered and knowing you have at least two hundred pages of reading and six feet of writing to complete before Monday.

"What if we get arrested for trespassing?"

"We're still wearing our security tags," he said, pulling his out from under his robe, and giving hers a tug with his other hand. "They expire today, remember? Someone will let us into the office. We're practically employees!"

She considered it, and despite the rule about not leaving the castle, she decided he was right. It was simple, go back and get the wand. They had security clearance, and the floo journey didn't take long. No one would even know they'd gone.

"All right, fine. Let's go."

As she started toward the hearth, Sirius said, "Wait, the connection to the Ministry is cut off now. We have to go upstairs."

The bowl of Floo Powder on the stone mantle was nearly empty, but Sirius poured what was left into his hand and they sneaked through the castle. Her heart was racing by the time they reached the room with the working Floo connection.

"Relax, Annie. We're not doing anything wrong."

"Well… that's not entirely true."

"Aside from leaving the castle without permission. But we done that loads of times."

"Right," she said with a nod. "We can do this. No problem."

He led her into the hearth, and minutes after calling out their destination, they were back in the Atrium of the Ministry.

As Sirius had predicted, there was still a fair amount of people about, all lost in their own worlds as they went about their business. No one even gave the two Hogwarts students a second glance, except for the security guards who peered at their tags before going back to staring blankly into the void.

Sirius shot Annabelle a proud smile, but refrained from telling her "I told you so" until she had her wand in hand. The lift attendant also examined their tags, squinting from behind glasses so thick they made his eyeballs look three times the natural size.

"Where to?" he asked, apparently satisfied with what he saw.

"Department of Social Wel-"

Before the she could finish, the lift jerked to a start and they were jostled about.

"Thank you," Annabelle said a moment later, stumbling out as the doors opened.

The department was dark and locked up for the night. Sirius attempted to charm the lock open, but Annabelle clutched his arm.

"Sirius!" she whispered sharply. "We can't break in!"

He gave a casual shrug. "Didn't work anyway. Let's see if we can find someone from maintenance to let us in."

Annabelle wasn't keen on the idea, but she went without protest since he was set on getting her wand back. She could tell it had become a challenge, and admitting defeat wasn't an option for Sirius – a trait of his that was both admirable and frustrating at the same time.

They rounded a corner into a short corridor, hoping to run into someone who could help. Voices erupted in laughter from behind an unmarked door, and Sirius knocked.

The door opened, and a large man with a long red beard appeared. He reminded Annabelle of the Vikings she'd learnt about in primary school. There were three others in the room, another man and two women, all of them wearing the traditional blue robes of maintenance workers.

"Can I help?" he said, annoyance in his voice.

"Yes, em… I'm an intern, and I seem to have left my wand in the office round the corner. Would you mind unlocking it for a moment so I can find it? Please?"

She squinted up at him, her shoulders tense as he scrutinised their security tags.

"Hogwarts students, eh? Dumbledore know you're here?"

"Course he does," said Sirius. "He knows everything doesn't he?"

One of the women let out a laugh. "He's got ya there, Mack!"

"O'Neill," he said, peeking at Annabelle's nametag again. "You wouldn't happen to be kin to Darien O'Neill, would you?"

"He was my grandfather."

The other three fell silent, shifting in their seats to get a better view of her. A hint of sadness could be detected in Mack's eyes, and he said, "Come on then. Mrs. McKinnon is still in her office I believe."

"She's a workaholic," Annabelle whispered to Sirius.

They followed Mack to the office and he lit a torch located inside the door. "Will that be enough light for you?"

Sirius lit the end of his wand. "Yes. We shouldn't be long."

"Take your time. The door'll lock automatically behind you. And tell Mrs. McKinnon to get herself home already. The work will still be there in the morning."

"Thank you," said Annabelle with a gracious smile. "I definitely will."

Mack gave a nod, his gaze falling on her one more time before he lumbered away.

"Look at you," Sirius said, giving her an elbow-nudge. "Lady Annabelle has entered the premises."

She fought a grin as she elbowed him back. "Bugger off."

She stopped him after a few paces and pointed up to the portrait above the door. There was Darien O'Neill, flipping through a book in the dim torchlight, humming the tune to a children's song called "Báidín Fheilimí." She remembered it, though all she knew of the Irish lyrics was they were about a boat. If only she'd cared enough at five or six years old to ask him what rest of it meant.

"He sang that song to me dozens of times when I was small, especially if I woke up crying after a nightmare. Unlike me, he could actually carry a tune. I used to stand up on my bed and dance, and he would sing and laugh until Mrs. Brennan came in and scolded us both."

"It's an amazing portrait," said Sirius quietly. "Have you tried talking to him?"

She stared at the face she knew so well, homesickness swallowing her. "Haven't had a chance, really. And there's always people about, so…"

The times she did pass by the portrait, the image of her grandfather was always laughing at jokes the portrait of his predecessor a few feet away was telling. Even in death he had a way of brightening a room with his laughter. There was a sparkle in his eyes then, just as she remembered him in life, but now, the pensive, melancholy side of him was showing, the one that every so often kept him in holed up in his study for hours on end, a glass of whiskey in one hand, a book of Yeats poetry in the other, and pictures of his wife and daughter close by.

"He used to get sad sometimes," she said. "He rarely let it show, but still… Mrs. Brennan would steer me away from his study when he got like that. Whoever did the portrait must have known him well."

Sirius understood, in a way, the man's sadness. That he still smiled and carried on, fighting the bad guys, standing up for the weak and suffering after losing his wife to an early death and his daughter to addiction was proof of the kind of person he was, of his goodness. Who could begrudge him a glass or two of whiskey every now and then?

"What was his Patronus?"

"Marlene told me it was a falcon."

A tightness squeezed at Sirius' throat. Despite Darien O'Neill's personal pain, he still managed to cast a Patronus. Of course, as good as the man was, Sirius wasn't surprised.

"Let's go before we disturb him," Annabelle said.

"You can't disturb him, Annie. It's only a painting."

"I know, but I don't think I'll be able to distinguish between reality and illusion if he, or _it_ I guess, starts speaking to me. Not yet anyway. It'll feel too real."

She tugged him away to Marlene's office.

"Marlene?" she called as she knocked. "It's Annabelle. I forgot my-"

The door opened a crack and Marlene's face peeked out.

"Oh! Annabelle! What are you doing back here at this time?"

"I forgot my wand. Sorry, are we disturbing you?"

"No, just finishing up a few things." She peeked over her shoulder, then looking back to Annabelle, opened the door. "Come in, come in!" Her hand was over her heart as she spoke, but there was a hint of relief in her voice. A man with glasses and neatly trimmed brown hair was sitting in a chair by the desk, and he gave a friendly wave. "This is my husband Cory by the way. Cory, this is Annabelle, one of my indispensable interns, and," she looked at Sirius, "I know I've seen you before."

"This is my boyfriend, Sirius," said Annabelle. "You saw him today actually, when he came to see why we hadn't left yet. He was interning in the Department of Magical Games and Sports."

"Ah, Sirius," she said, smiling devilishly at Annabelle. "Pleased to officially meet you."

"Likewise, ma'am," said Sirius.

"The Department of Games and Sports," repeated Cory. "MacFarlan's a live-wire, in'it he? Minchum is always on my case about him. Says he's the centre of too much sensational news and could I make him tone down his behaviour."

The couple gave an exasperated laugh, like they knew all too well what Minchum, and for that matter, MacFarlan, were like.

"You work for Minchum?" asked Sirius.

"I'm the head of his Public Relations team."

"My sympathies."

"Thank you," he said with a chuckle. "He's not easy to work for, that's for sure."

He glanced at his wife, and Annabelle got the feeling they'd been in the middle of something important.

"Right, my wand then." She summoned the wand, and out it flew from a stack of papers on the desk, knocking them all to the floor. She rushed to pick them up. "Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry!"

"I'll take care of that," said Marlene, dropping onto the floor beside her and almost tackling her to prevent her from cleaning up the mess. Cory was at her other side, swiping the papers up.

"It's no trouble," said Annabelle, but she stood up anyway, looking down at the paper in her hand. Marlene and Cory froze, and Annabelle felt her skin prickle as she realised what she was looking at.

**Broadcast – Friday, 3 March 1978 – Page 2**

**Lux: News out of London – a plot to poison the water supply in Lancashire was thwarted this afternoon by Aurors. Ministry officials have decided to cover it up, claiming the evidence of Death Eater involvement was deficient….**

She stopped reading, going back to the beginning, her finger stuck on the word _Lux_. The ground seemed to shift beneath her, and she stepped backwards, bumping into Sirius. He looked to see what she was pointing at and gasped, his eyes darting to Marlene and Cory, then back to the paper. Further down the page was the other name Annabelle expected to see. When she looked up, Marlene and Cory were still bent to the floor, but were watching her cautiously, gauging her reaction.

"You – you're…" Annabelle began, a thrill rising in her chest. She slapped a hand over her mouth.

"Will you close the door, Sirius," Marlene directed.

She was not smiling.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"For fuck's sake, is this programme ever coming back on?" James griped from his seat at the table nearest the wireless radio. "And how bloody long does it take to find a wand?"

Lily glanced at the clock on the wall. "They haven't been gone so long, have they? Maybe they stopped at the library, or-"

"A broom cupboard," snickered Peter from his post at the radio, turning the tuner back and forth in the hopes of hearing the voices of Mercury and Lux.

Lily sent Peter a haughty look. "Or they went to tell McGonagall she lost her wand, I was _going_ to say."

James ignored Peter's remark. "They said they'd be right back. They wanted to be here in case Veritas aired. You don't think…"

Lily shook her head. "I doubt the curser would strike at this time. Too many people about."

"A House of Horrors full of people didn't stop the psycho from cursing Claire."

Lily didn't know what to say to calm his nerves. Annabelle should either have found the wand, or come back to say she didn't find it. Peter had a point; maybe they did sneak off to be alone somewhere, but Annabelle always let Lily know she would be gone a while by saying "Sirius and I are taking a walk." Or "Sirius and I are going to the library." Lily hated to overreact, because whenever Annabelle was with Sirius, she was a bit bolder and likely to do things she wouldn't do otherwise. So, as rude as Peter's remark was, he might have been correct.

"Don't worry, James. I'm sure they're fine. If they're not back by curfew, we'll track them down on our walkthrough."

James pulled his glasses down, rubbing his eyes in frustration, then shoved them back up the bridge of his nose and went back to his reading. Lily could see the tension in him, and she reached out a hand, placing it over his.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said softly, taking her hand. "Just knackered."

His eyes shifted to the clock again.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Sirius promptly did as he was asked and closed the office door. As Cory gathered the rest of the papers, Marlene directed Annabelle and Sirius to have a seat, and she sat down at the other side of her desk.

A powerful silence filled the small room before she spoke. "I'm not sure what to tell you," she began, her hands folded on top of a file folder. "I could lie, pretend it's something that was passed on to Cory from Minchum, something he wanted contained, but…" She raised her eyes to Annabelle. "You are too clever to fall for that."

Annabelle and Sirius traded subtle grins, the effort to remain calm in light of their discovery consuming them.

Marlene let out a defeated breath. "From your reaction, it's clear to me you know about the programme. So I will start by saying, and I mean this with every fibre of my being…" She stared them in the eyes. "You _must not tell a soul_. Not your mates, not your family, not even Esmeralda."

Annabelle stifled a snicker. As if she would tell Esmeralda anything important. "You have my word."

"You have my word as well," said Sirius.

"If anyone finds out," said Cory, now sitting against the edge of the desk, "the Ministry will have us imprisoned for plotting against the government - that is if Voldemort doesn't make us disappear first, if you know what I'm saying."

"And we have two children at home," pleaded Marlene. "We can't risk anyone learning our identities, no matter how much you think you can trust others to keep this a secret."

Annabelle swallowed hard as she thought of the risk involved in what Marlene was doing. She didn't know if she was epically brave, or just plain crazy.

"You can trust us," said Annabelle. "Honestly."

Marlene bit down on her lip, steadying herself before continuing. "You must think we're awful parents, putting our lives in danger when our children are still reliant on us, but no one was doing anything to get the truth out, and with both of us working here, we have a direct line on what's really going on. All I could see every night as I tried to fall asleep was my children being led off to the slaughter by this mad man and his twisted, cult-like followers, and I had to do something. Because Merlin knows, not much else was being done, not by anyone with real power."

Her face contorted and she squeezed her eyes shut. Cory went to her side and conjured a chair for himself.

"We started small," he said, his hand on his wife's back, "a broadcast once every month or so, but as Voldemort gained influence, we knew we had to keep going. People have started to rely on us for the facts. It seems to be doing some good – the Auror department has been taking on more trainees, Minchum has started to act, albeit in ridiculously ill-advised ways, and more people are understanding what Voldemort plans to accomplish, which means less people are willing to join his ranks. If we stop now, it will only hurt the Ord-" He stopped to clear his throat. "I'm sorry, it will hurt the _resistance's_ efforts to fight back."

"The resistance?" asked Annabelle. "So there's really a resistance fighting him besides Aurors?"

He looked to Marlene for reassurance, and when she gave a helpless shrug, he said, "Yes. There is. But they're outnumbered by Death Eaters."

"Does Dumbledore know?" asked Sirius. "What you're doing, I mean."

Marlene exhaled heavily, as though every admission was another nail in their coffins. "Yes, he does, but please, don't speak of it to him. If anyone overheard-"

"We won't," said Sirius. "We won't put you in danger."

"We promise," said Annabelle. "We won't speak of it, not even to each other. We know nothing."

A tired smile formed on Marlene's face. "Well then. I guess we should be grateful it was you to discover us, instead of the numerous alternatives. In fact, we were just about to start the broadcast when our alarm was triggered that someone was in the office."

Annabelle and Sirius darted their eyes about the room, but could see no evidence of magical broadcasting equipment.

"We concealed the equipment with a charm when the alarm sounded," explained Cory. "It's right over here."

He waved his wand and there it was, on a table against the wall: Microphones attached to nothing, a strange antenna like thing, and a shoebox sized device that resembled a speaker with brass dials of different sizes scattered over the front of it.

"You were going to do the show right here, from the Ministry?" Annabelle asked in an awed whisper.

"Shocking, yeah?" said Cory. "No one would ever expect to find us here."

Sirius smiled, shaking his head. "Brilliant."

"Do you always broadcast from here?" Annabelle pressed on.

"No," said Marlene. "We switch between several locations, just to be on the safe side."

"I know you said we can trust you, and we do," said Cory. "We believe you won't intentionally give us away. But you can't take a single chance, you understand? There is no room for the smallest slips here."

Annabelle's initial glee of discovering them quickly evaporated. The stress Marlene and Cory were under must have been crushing as it was, now they had to worry about two teenagers knowing the one secret that if revealed, would be the end of them.

"I'm sorry," said Annabelle. "I should have come back on Monday after classes."

"No it's my fault," said Sirius. "I was the one who insisted we get the wand tonight, I was the one who-"

"It's no one's fault," said Marlene. "You couldn't have known what you were walking in on. You wouldn't have known at all if I'd sent you away and told you to come back Monday. Or looked for the wand myself. Just, _please_ , don't speak of it."

"We should be going," said Sirius.

"Yes," agreed Annabelle, standing up. "We should."

Marlene and Cory stood up as well, and Marlene saw them to the door. The fear in Marlene's eyes as they met Annabelle's prompted Annabelle to hug her.

"It's going to be all right," she whispered. "We won't tell. _Believe_ me."

Marlene nodded. "Take care, Annabelle. Hope to see you again in July."

Annabelle did her best to smile, and exited with Sirius. The door closed behind them.

"I can't believe it," she said to Sirius.

"I know. I can't either." They looked at each other, the urge to discuss the matter outweighed by the gravity of their promise. "Come on, we've been gone too long."

As they made their way out of the office, the portrait of Darien O'Neill had his eyes closed and was slowly reciting a line from a favourite Yeats' poem. Annabelle stopped in her tracks, the familiar voice filling her heart.

_"Come away, O human child, to the waters and the wild, with a faery, hand in hand, for the world's more full of weeping than you can understand."_

She felt a lump rise in her throat as she stared up at his likeness, so real and yet, not.

"I love you Grandad."

Portrait Darien O'Neill opened his eyes and gave a hazy smile. "And I love you, my dear Annie. Now get yourself to sleep. There's much to be done in the morning."

He shut his eyes again, his head resting in his hand, and began humming another familiar tune. Sirius put his arm round Annabelle and quietly led her out of the office.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Lily and James started down the stairs, having begun their walkthrough early in the hopes of tracking down Sirius and Annabelle. Remembering Frank's warning about going in groups, Remus tagged along beside them, as did Alice, who also wanted to be there in case anything happened, or if there was some bad news awaiting them.

"Something just isn't right about this," said Lily, her heart pounding. "What if something _did_ happen to them?"

"There has to be a logical explanation," said Remus. "You know Sirius."

"And Annabelle when she's with Sirius," added Alice, trying to convince herself they were fine.

"I swear, if we catch them coming out of a broom cupboard…" James muttered, his jaw tight.

As they turned into the sixth floor corridor, Lily began to feel sweaty and lightheaded. She couldn't believe they would just disappear for over an hour when they said they would be right back. Every horror imaginable filled her head, and tears filled her eyes.

"I want to tell McGonagall," she cried. "We have to. Something could be really wrong."

James took a deep breath. He never thought he'd see the day he would run to a professor for help finding Sirius, but with everything that had been happening, he couldn't stop the incessant worry muddling his brain, leading him to think the worst.

"Maybe we should." His words felt like an admission that something terrible truly had happened to their friends, but doing nothing when they might need help was not an option. "If only we had the fucking Map!"

They turned back to the stairs and were almost to the seventh floor again when they heard two familiar voices carrying from below.

"Sirius?" called James, an edge to his voice that suggested he was holding back. "Is that you?"

"Depends… Is that you James?"

Laughter followed. James gritted his teeth as the pair appeared on the landing. Lily ran down the stairs and grabbed Annabelle into a frantic hug.

"I thought something happened to you! We were about to tell McGonagall you'd gone missing!"

"Gone missing?" repeated Annabelle. "Lily, we weren't gone that long."

"You were! And you said you'd be right back!"

"I see you found your wand," said James evenly to Annabelle, then he looked to Sirius. "You're an asshole."

With that, he turned back down the stairs, pushing past them. Sirius furrowed his brow, unsure what was going on, and followed him.

"Prongs! Wait! What the hell is your problem?"

James stopped on the landing below. "My problem? My problem is everyone is dying, people are being cursed and _killed_ …" He closed his eyes and blew out a shaky breath. "And you say you're going to the Great Hall to look for something and you don't come back-"

"We went to the Ministry. She left it there."

" _And you couldn't have told us first!?"_ James roared. His eyes were wide, and his cheeks had gone bright red. "Go on then, do whatever the fuck want with no concern for anyone else. _Merlin_ , you make me want to- _gah_!" He pulled at his hair. "You make me want to-"

"What," seethed Sirius. "What do you want to do? You want to hit me? Beat me up? Come on, do it, if it'll make you feel better. I'll conjure a walking stick for you right now so you can really lay into me. Hear some bones crack."

"Sirius, _stop_ ," cried Lily, "he didn't say that!" But Sirius was deaf to reason.

"You think you can hurt me?" he railed on. "Is that it? Well you can't, no matter what you do to me. You _can't hurt me_!"

James stared at up at him, his lips curved into a tight frown. A weight hovered between them, then James shook his head and continued down the next flight of stairs. Lily and Alice ran after him, but Remus stayed for a moment, his face pinched.

"Sirius, he was worried. Lily was crying. We all thought you were the next curse victims."

Sirius was still for a moment, nibbling his bottom lip, but then he shoved his hands into his pockets and stormed up the stairs.

Annabelle cautiously met Remus' eyes. "I'm sorry. We didn't realise it would take so long. We didn't mean to upset anyone."

"I reckon you didn't, Annie. Hurry up and go with him so you're not alone in the corridors. I'm going to catch up to the others."

She jogged tearfully up the stairs to find Sirius waiting for her at the Portrait, his face stoic. He said the password and they stepped through, Sirius heading straight for the boys' staircase.

"Sirius," she said, and he turned, his gaze focused on the rug. "I'll see you in a minute?"

He pulled his lips in tight and nodded once, then turned up the stairs, and Annabelle went to get her invisibility cloak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment!


	19. About Sirius

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As for the birthday tradition known as "the bumps," which Remus reluctantly receives in this chapter, if you're not familiar with it, I suggest you google/YouTube it. Not to be confused with the Indian version of the bumps, where the person gets his arse kicked repeatedly, the English bumps aren't quite so forceful. This is a description I found on Quora: "The bumps are an age old tradition of The English, Ireland and other European countries. Usually they are given by "bumping" the person up into the air and down onto the floor. The number of "bumps" given equals the age of the person in years plus one 'for luck.'"
> 
> Also, sorry (again) for the wait. I've been super busy lately, and sooo tired. This chapter has been written for quite a while, but finding time to edit it has been difficult. Sorry for any typos – I am the worst at catching them. Anyway, enough with the excuses, and on with story. The end is in sight for this instalment (I think)… not there yet, but getting close!
> 
> Recap: Fairfax was killed, Marauder's Map was confiscated, internships ended, Annabelle and Sirius discovered the identity of Mercury and Lux when they returned to the Ministry for Annabelle's wand, James was angry they left without telling anyone, and Sirius snapped on James.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_And in today already walks tomorrow._

_\- Samuel Taylor Coleridge_

_.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-._

Annabelle brought her Defence against the Dark Arts book with her to Sirius' room, in case he felt up to reading later, but she wasn't counting on it. When she entered the room and pulled off her cloak, she wasn't surprised to find him sitting on his bed with his quill in hand, the Daily Prophet crossword in front of him.

She dropped her cloak on top of his robe where he'd tossed it over his trunk, and sat down facing him. He didn't look up. With anyone else, she might have thought the person was being rude and dismissive of her, but she knew him well enough to recognise his shame, so powerful it radiated from him, filling the space between them.

Dipping her quill in the ink suspended in the air beside them, she scrawled upside down on the top margin of his newspaper:

**_Fancy a chat?_ **

He blinked, hesitating before meeting her eyes.

"I don't know what to say."

"Listen," she said, struggling to find the right words, "so many awful things have happened recently. I reckon James is feeling helpless, same as the rest of us. But I don't think he wanted to hit you. He doesn't have it in him."

"I don't know why I thought he wanted to hit me. It sounded like he did, but…" He blew out a breath and dropped his head.

"Not everyone hits when they're angry," she said carefully.

"I know. He's right - I am an asshole… having a go at him like that."

"Ah, Sirius, you're no such thing."

"I put two people's lives in danger tonight by insisting you get your wand back, then I explode on the best mate I ever had. I'd say that makes me an asshole."

"Hold on. _We_ didn't put anyone's lives in danger, because _we_ know how to keep a secret. And there's nothing assholey about wanting to help me get my wand back. In fact, it didn't take much to convince me it was a good idea, did it?"

The corner of his mouth quirked up. " _Assholey,_ " he murmured as he tossed his quill and newspaper onto his nightstand. He rested his back against his headboard and squeezed his eyes shut. Stretching out beside him, Annabelle put her head on his shoulder.

"As for your outburst," she said, giving his chin a rub with her forefinger, "James knows your history and I'm sure he'll understand once you talk to him."

"I don't know what came over me. The way he was shouting, and when he started to say whatever he was going to say, something triggered in me, sort of like a reflex. But I don't think it was James I was reacting to…" he trailed off, shaking his head in frustration.

"It was your parents."

"I believe it was." This insight was sobering, and he threaded his fingers with hers, resting them on his abdomen. " _Merlin_ ," he said with a wry chuckle, "what a sodding mess over an innocent quest for a wand. They must think I'm mental now, going off like that."

"It's all right. We're all a bit mental, actually. Every last one of us."

A half smile formed on his face. "Not exactly comforting."

Annabelle grinned and pecked him on the cheek. "So you overreacted, jumped to conclusions… it happens. You and James will sort it out."

"The worst part is, we can't even tell them why we were at the Ministry for so long."

"We'll have to say it took some time to find someone with a key, that's all."

He glanced at his watch, still uneasy about facing James after barking at him. After all, James was only angry because he was worried about them, which was rather nice, Sirius admitted to himself, now that he had his wits about him. What had been left of his energy was sapped, though, and his body was begging him to sleep, even if only for a half hour or so.

"I see you brought your Defence book," he said, nodding to the text wedged between them.

"So I did. In the mood to read?"

He closed his eyes and pretended to snore. When Annabelle giggled, he smiled at her. "I reckon we should, but I don't think I'll be able to stay awake for it."

"Close your eyes then and rest." She sat up straight and pulled her book into her lap. "I'll read it for both of us and fill you in on the important stuff later."

He felt a surge of gratitude, for her, her unending patience, and her ability to see his heart in the midst of the wreckage. When he was at his most his vulnerable, she never failed to be his strength.

With an arm slug across her lap and his head resting beside her, he closed his eyes. "I don't deserve you," he said, his voice barely audible.

She turned a page in her book. "Not even a tiny bit true."

Her hand brushed against his head, and he allowed sleep to wash over him, hardly noticing when later, she curled up beside him and closed her eyes as well.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Lily and James sat on the sofa in the common room, having finished their walkthrough in record time. Alice had excused herself to her room where she was determined to make a dent in her assignments, and Remus collapsed in a chair by the sofa, gazing into the fire and distractedly tugging on his bottom lip. James hadn't said a word about the encounter with Sirius, choosing instead to storm through the castle in a strop. Now that he had let off some steam, Lily saw her opportunity to bring it up, but first, she guided his head into her lap and began softly stroking his hair.

"So," she said, hoping his guard was now sufficiently down. "About Sirius."

James closed his eyes. "I need a minute to process what happened."

Every muscle in his body was fraught with tension, his bones aching with the grief of so much loss. Now this _thing_ with his best mate adding to the burden… how could Sirius think he would hurt him? The idea of it was absurd.

A log in the fire popped and some nearby second-years shrieked, then laughed at themselves. Remus stared them down as he calmly pointed to the clock, and they excused themselves from the room.

"I would never beat him up," James finally said as he attempted to keep his emotions in check. "Does he really think I would? After all these years, he thinks I'd do what his father did to him?"

"Perhaps he's extra sensitive to anger," said Lily. "When his parents were angry with him, they hurt him, so…" She gave a small shrug.

James sat up, leaning forward on his knees, his hands clasped with worry. "But I'm nothing like his parents."

"Of _course_ not, but you were angry with him. And rightfully so I might add."

"I shouldn't have said what I said, even though I was only going to say he was making me want to rip my hair out, or beat my head into a wall. Something like that. I certainly didn't want to _hit_ him."

"And I think he knows that," said Remus. "You were expressing your frustration, not your desire to pummel him."

"It's a misunderstanding," assured Lily. "Actually, the more I think about it, the more I feel like screaming at Annabelle for what they put us through. I won't, but the thought did occur to me."

"She knows they made a mistake," said Remus. "At least it seemed that way."

James leaned back into the sofa, resting his head and closing his eyes. A long sigh escaped him. "What a shite day. And on top of it, no Veritas either."

"I hope Mercury and Lux are all right," said Lily.

"If the show doesn't air again," said James, "we might never find out what happened to them."

They were quiet for a few minutes, each of them absorbed in their thoughts. Eventually, Remus stood up. "Right. I'm off to bed. Can't keep my eyes open."

"Night, Moony."

"Good night, Remus."

"Night."

When he was gone, James put his head in Lily's lap again. "I think I want to stay here for a bit."

"My lap is your lap."

He laughed softly. "I meant the common room."

"I know," she said as she ruffled his hair. "But you can't avoid him forever."

James didn't plan to avoid Sirius forever, but a knot formed in his stomach at the prospect of facing him just then. He was still irked over how the two of them traipsed off to the Ministry without telling a soul. And if he was being honest with himself, his feelings were still hurt by Sirius' tirade.

"I know, but I can't deal with another confrontation tonight. Not with him."

Lily's fingers massaged his scalp, and he exhaled, his muscles slowing relaxing. His eyelids felt heavy, and as they closed, he felt her remove his glasses. Then he heard her yawn.

Sitting up again, he said, "Go to bed, Lil. I'll be fine."

"I prefer to stay. Come. Lie down with me."

She lay back against a throw cushion, turning sideways, and he eased himself against her, running a hand over her back. She caressed his cheek, her thumb skimming his brow, and he smiled faintly at her touch.

"Everything will be fine with Sirius," she assured him. "You'll see."

He kissed her lightly on the lips, thankful he was knackered, otherwise he might have suggested they go somewhere more private, and she being knackered herself would most certainly reject his suggestion.

"He's my best mate, but so are you," he said.

Lily grinned. "And you are an absolute sweetheart."

"Right, well, it takes one to know one."

Lily rubbed her nose against his. "Rest," she commanded.

He was more than happy to oblige, and closed his eyes.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Sirius opened his eyes, convinced it was morning. Annabelle's body was limp against him, her head on his chest and her breathing soft and even. But the darkness in the room told a different story, and when he glanced at his watch, he discovered it was only half eleven.

Annabelle's arm moved, and she lifted her head. From the light of his watch, he saw that her eyes were barely open and one side of her face had indentations from his shirt buttons. Pulling his watch in front of her, she checked the time.

"Only half eleven?" She flopped onto her back.

Sirius looked over to see James' bed empty, and Remus and Peter's bed curtains closed.

"If Remus came back, then why wouldn't James…" he thought aloud.

Annabelle looked in the direction of James' bed. "Maybe he's still in the common room working on his assignments." She brought her legs down and slipped into her shoes. "Want to check?"

His face fell. "Yes and no."

"Come on, love. Don't let it become bigger than it is."

He exhaled miserably, but got off the bed. "Right, then. Let me get my shoes on."

When they arrived in the common room, they didn't see James and Lily straight away. Sirius' stomach dropped and a cold sweat broke out on his forehead.

"What are the odds that something happened to them after scolding us for being careless?" he asked, his voice flat in an effort to remain calm.

Annabelle charged to the front of the sofa, her breath held tight in her lungs, but released it at the sight of the pair sprawled out together with the cat at their feet. They both stirred, but Sirius stayed back, reluctant to face them.

"What time is it?" asked Lily, her eyes squinting.

"Nearly midnight," said Annabelle. "Were you trying to give us a taste of our own medicine by hiding down here?"

Lily blinked in confusion. "What? Oh – no, of course not." She sent Annabelle a bitter look as she sat up. " _Hiding_. Really, Annie. We wouldn't put you through that on purpose."

Annabelle hung her head, her own shame seeping through her. "We didn't mean to put you through it either."

James propped himself up on his elbows and asked in an accusatory voice, "What was so difficult about coming back here and telling us where you were going?"

Sirius stepped round to the front of the sofa. "We thought we'd be back in ten minutes, fifteen tops. If we'd known finding someone with a key was going to take an hour, we would have told you first."

James was sitting up now, his brooding gaze focused on the dying fire. He didn't speak to or look at either of them.

"You had us worried sick," said Lily, her voice faltering. "Maybe we overreacted, but it's hard not to with everything that's happening these days."

"You didn't overreact," said Annabelle. "We'd have felt the same if it was the other way round. Just know we didn't plan to be gone for so long without telling you first."

Lily got up and hugged Annabelle, then moved to Sirius and hugged him as well. He squeezed her back, but not without making a joke.

"Please, Lily. We're English for crying out loud."

She chuckled and squeezed him tighter. "I don't care."

James remained sullen, and Lily bent to him, taking his head in her hands and kissing his forehead. "See you in the morning. Annie? Coming?"

"Course."

Annabelle didn't say anything more to James, because he was still rigid with resentment, but she did give Sirius a peck on the lips and a look of encouragement. He watched her disappear up the girls' staircase, then turned to his friend.

"Look, I don't know what happened to me earlier, and I'm sorry for…" He pulled a hand out of his pocket and rubbed his lip, the words difficult to say aloud. "…for insinuating you're anything like my father."

He was about to continue, but James tore his eyes from the fire and set them on Sirius. "I know I've done things – thrown some punches, broken a few noses, and nine times out of ten the other guy deserved it - but do you really think I'd do the same to _you_? You're my best mate. When have I ever punched you for real?"

"Never. And I don't think you would, I just-"

"Because I wouldn't. I wasn't going to say anything about wanting to hit you. You and Annie scared the shite out us of tonight, and I wanted to tear my hair out because you acted like we… like we had _nothing_ to be upset about. I was frustrated, I-" He gave his head a flustered shake and went back to staring into the fire.

"I know you had good reason to be upset," said Sirius as he sat down on the arm of the sofa. "I mean, I know it _now_ anyway - and then I gave you one more reason, I reckon, lashing out at you like that. It's the first thing I expect… when someone's having a go at me. Like the adrenalin kicks in and I'm waiting for it, even if it was never the other person's intention. It wasn't your fault." He gave a shrug. "Had nothing to do with you actually."

Silence floated between them for a moment, but Sirius already felt somewhat better, because even though James hadn't responded yet, he knew now they would be fine. They couldn't hold a grudge against each other if they tried.

"I can't handle anymore death," said James, his eyes closing briefly. "Feels like it's lurking, all the time. Round every corner."

Sirius gave his shoulder a gentle shove. "Come on, mate. You can't think like that."

"I know, but how do I stop?"

"I don't know, but you can't let it defeat you either." Another moment passed, and Sirius said, "We can fight Voldemort, yeah? Join the resistance when we finish school."

James smirked. "How do we do that? We know nothing about the resistance."

The temptation to tell James about Mercury and Lux lingered on the tip of his tongue, but he'd made a promise, and he intended to keep it.

"We'll figure it out. And then we can hunt him down ourselves."

"I'd like to be the one to blast him into oblivion," said James.

"So would I."

"Well, if we can figure out how to join, I'm with you mate. One hundred percent."

"Great. Now that we've got the downfall of the Dark Lord sorted, how d'you feel about sleep?"

"I could use about twenty more hours of it, actually."

Sirius stood up and headed to the boys' staircase, and James stretched before following him. At the foot of the stairs, he stopped.

"Oh, and Padfoot?" Sirius turned his head, and James looked him straight in the eyes. "It's not your fault either. What happened earlier I mean, when you let me have it. I get that, yeah?"

Sirius felt his throat thicken, and he nodded. "Don't forget your precious cat."

"Oh, right," said James, snapping his fingers at Pumpkin. "Come along, Stupid."

The cat hopped down and followed them to the stairs, and a wry smile crept over Sirius' face. "Don't think by calling him Stupid you have me fooled, Prongs. You were talking to him like a baby yesterday morning."

"You heard that?"

"I did. _'Hewoh, ickle Punkin. You want some brekky?'_ "

He burst out laughing and James responded by putting him in a headlock, which was actually more like a hug, and pulling him up the stairs.

"Just because I'd never punch your face in doesn't mean I won't do this."

"Prongs! Your relationship with Pumpkin is nothing to be ashamed of! Let me go!"

James let him go with a weak shove, and Sirius ran the rest of the way up the stairs, his laughter echoing behind him. Pumpkin bounded up the stairs after him, and James allowed himself to smile. Because they were raised so differently, sometimes he lost touch with how deep the scars from Sirius' childhood ran, but he would do better not to let any misunderstandings come between them again. He loved him too much for that.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The first thing James did the next morning after greeting Lily with a kiss, was to hug Annabelle.

"You're both really important to us, so please don't go off to London without telling us again, all right O'Neill?"

"We won't, Captain," she said with a sheepish grin. "Lesson learnt."

Now that the air was completely cleared, it was time to catch up on assignments, and after breakfast, they spent the day alternating between the library and the common room. This continued throughout the next day, and by Monday, they felt like they needed a holiday from the weekend. The Charms exam was a relative breeze, but on Tuesday, McGonagall dropped a surprise test on them, which wasn't a breeze at all.

Still, they trudged on, and by the following Friday, they were ready to celebrate Remus' eighteenth birthday however he wanted. Even if meant sneaking out. As long as they were together, they would be fine, they told themselves. But Remus' idea took them by surprise.

"Did I hear you correctly?" asked Peter from where he lounged on his bed. "You want to get a crystal ball reading?"

"Can't hurt," Remus answered, torn between his desire for answers about his future, and his belief that crystal balls were utter rubbish. "Claire says one of her housemates is doing them tonight, and people are going to be lined up out the door to get one. Nixie somebody-"

"Nixie Geist?" exclaimed Peter. "She's been the duelling club champion for two years now."

"That's the one."

"Can't wait to queue up with the gullible eejits who have no ability to think for themselves," James scoffed.

"We don't have to queue. Claire will get us in straight away."

Sirius snorted a laugh, and when Remus shot him an irritated glance, he said, "Right, if that's what Moony wants for his birthday… a _crystal ball reading…_ then that's what he shall have."

"You lot don't have to come with me."

"No, I mean, I've never come face to face with a real seer," said James. "You know, one that isn't a fraud. I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"So you, James Potter, are going to get your future read?" Remus asked, finding it hard to believe his pragmatic friend would succumb to such nonsense.

"No, I'm not. But I don't want to miss what she says about you."

"What if she sees that you're a Werewolf in the reading," said Peter. "Everyone will run screaming from Ravenclaw tower. It'll be a mass exodus from the castle!"

Remus resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Claire says they're not that specific, for example, Nixie won't be able to see that you snog your pillow every night whilst pretending it's Septima Scroggie."

Sirius and James almost fell off their beds in hysteria.

"I do not," said Peter sullenly. "Why do you morons think I fancy her anyway? Because I play chess with her?"

"Fine, you don't fancy her," said Sirius, not in the mood to deal with Peter's denial. "We're only taking the piss."

Peter's sullen pout faded, but he was wary. "Divination is sort of like dark magic, isn't it? It fucks with your head."

"I'd agree with you if it actually worked," said James. "But it might be worth it to see her make an arse out of herself. Merlin knows we could use a bit of comedy round here. I'm going to see if anyone else wants to join us."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Crystal ball?" repeated Alice, who was seated at a study table with Benjy Fenwick, discussing Stealth Techniques for their Auror training. "What rubbish."

"Fenwick," said James, changing the subject momentarily, "did Dumbledore switch you into Gryffindor or something? You're always here, mate."

Benjy shook his head. "Still a Ravenclaw."

"You're like a Ravendor."

"Sorry, but we have a lot of work to do," said Alice. "Maybe next time."

James gestured toward the girls' stairs. "Could you ask Lily and Annabelle?"

"Sure," she said with exaggerated enthusiasm. "Be right back."

A half hour later, Claire was waving Remus, James, Sirius, Lily, and Annabelle past the queue on the stairs to Ravenclaw Tower. Caradoc wasn't in the mood, and Johnny B. said he preferred not to know his future, because what if she told him something disturbing? He'd end up worrying about it constantly, thereby ruining his happiness. Peter was too frightened, and used Chess as his excuse not to tag along.

"Please, sit," said Nixie Geist from where she was stationed at a small, round study table. She was poised, dressed in an old fashioned robe the colour of sea glass with her white blond hair braided round her head. On top of the lace tablecloth stood a grapefruit-sized crystal ball, perched on an ornate silver stand before her, as well as three votive candles, giving a haunting light to the dim room.

"She's really playing the part," remarked Lily to James, giving him a nudge with her elbow.

James choked back a laugh and asked out loud, "Is that a standard-sized crystal ball? Looks a bit like a child's toy."

Lily let out a small giggle. "They come in all sizes, don't they?" she said, hoping James hadn't angered the petite girl. Her eyes were big - so light they were almost translucent - and Lily shuddered when she made eye contact with her.

"This crystal was passed onto me by my brother's ex-girlfriend – a gifted seer called Sybill Trelawney. She finished school five or six years ago. Did you know her?"

"Can't say we did," said Sirius, already bored. He and James traded smirks.

After eyeing Sirius coldly, she began the reading. Swirling her hands round the shining orb, she squinted her eyes, then widened them, then squinted them again. Remus watched, still as a statue.

"I see trials ahead, times of sadness…" She squinted into the ball again, and nausea burned in Remus' throat.

"What exactly are these trials?" he asked.

"Can't tell exactly. I get a feeling of desolation, but wait! I see joy… a marriage perhaps. A birth."

His nausea subsided and he met Claire's eyes. She had an apologetic smile on her face as if to say, _See_? _It's not so bad._

"You saw _all_ that?" asked James, his sarcasm not escaping the girl. "Amazing. Good thing we came here, Remus. Otherwise we would never have guessed life has its ups and downs."

"Shhhh," Lily whispered as the girl narrowed her eyes at him.

"Who is next," she intoned.

"That's it?" asked Remus. "No details?"

"No. The crystal ball decides what is to be known. I only have the gift to see it."

James whispered to Sirius, "Otherwise known as 'I'm not creative enough to elaborate.'"

"I'll go next," said Sirius, convinced the girl wouldn't rattle him with eerie, vague predictions she was so obviously making up.

"This should be brilliant," said James, smiling condescendingly. Sirius stifled a laugh.

Annabelle sat beside him, also not believing the girl was anything more than a moderately talented actress.

"Yours is harder to read – it's foggy," Nixie said as she peered into the ball. "It's… so… so dark… I can't tell if…"

Sirius watched her doubtfully, but he was growing more uncomfortable by the second. Maybe Peter was right and this was a bad idea after all.

"The darkness is a place, and your sadness is paralysing…" Her eyes burst wide open.

"What?" demanded Sirius. "What is it? What do you see?"

"As I said, it's foggy, but there's someone crying. A long period of strife. Desolation."

"What are you playing at?" sneered James, incensed for Sirius' sake. "You honestly expect us to fall for this?"

"I'm only telling you what the ball is showing me."

"Wait," said Sirius holding up a hand to James. "Who's crying? Can you see?"

She squinted harder. "I'm seeing… you. No wait, you're laughing, or are you crying? … No, I can't tell. It's so foggy." Suddenly she went very still, and slowly raised her eyes to him. "The ball has no more to tell. Your time is up."

"But you just saw something," said Sirius. "You saw something bad, admit it! Finish what you started!"

"As I said, there is no more to tell."

"There was nothing – nothing good in there?"

The solemn expression in her eyes as they met his answered his question. A chill went up his back.

"What an awful thing to do," accused Lily, "telling these lads about pain and suffering in their future. Do you enjoy hurting people?"

Before Nixie could answer, Annabelle stood up in a huff. "Do you think it makes you sound more legitimate if you act all spooky and say frightening things? Because I'll have you know, it doesn't."

Claire winced slightly at their words, her eyes darting between them and Nixie.

"I'm not acting," said Nixie coolly, "but if telling yourself that helps you move forward with your lives, by all means do."

"I have a mind to report you to Professor McGonagall," hissed Lily. "See what she has to say about this."

"Forget it, Lil," said James. "She's crackers. Let's go. There's three bottles of Firewhisky in my room with our names all over them."

Lily and Annabelle glared at Nixie Geist all the way out of the Ravenclaw common room, but she didn't appear threatened. Instead, there was sympathy in her startling eyes.

"I wish she'd wipe that self-righteous look off her face," said Annabelle.

"I think James is right," fumed Lily. "She's _crackers_."

Annabelle hadn't believed a word the girl had said, except for the part about Remus getting married and having children, but a seer wasn't needed to predict that. All she could think was how something that should have been a lark turned into a discomfiting, rather insulting experience. If Nixie wanted to play at fortune telling, she should have stuck to happy lies, not hurtful ones.

"Where did you get three bottles of fire whiskey?" asked Remus.

"Picked 'em up in Diagon Alley last week," said James, "with your birthday in mind, of course. I had a feeling we'd be staying in. What do you know, _maybe_ _I'm a seer_!"

Lily laughed the loudest, more than happy to express her contempt for the dubious art of fortune-telling, but Sirius barely smiled.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"What a load of bollocks," said Johnny B. after hearing James and Lily's dramatic version of events. "Sorry Claire. I know she's your mate, but that's fucked up what she said."

"She's not really a mate," said Claire, hanging her head. "I hardly know her."

"Should have listened to me," said Peter. "I told you it screws with your mind."

"Not everything she said was bad though," said Remus, wanting to believe what she said about the joy, but not wanting to believe the doom and gloom. "Not before some hard times, she said, but no life is perfect, right?"

"You don't a need a seer to tell you that," said Alice. "Of course you'll get married and have children, if that's what you decide. I could have told you that myself – without the all dark, mysterious stuff she put in your heads."

Sirius had been uncharacteristically silent on the subject, which made everyone else uncomfortable. He could be the life of a party, but if he was down, James and Annabelle would be down, and so on and so forth until no one was having a drop of fun. Caradoc poured him another shot of Firewhisky, giving him double the normal amount, and Sirius drained it in a matter of seconds.

Annabelle sent Johnny B. a helpless look, and he reassured her with a wink. "And if she was a proper seer," he said, "she would know all that crying rubbish is just future-Sirius reacting to professional Quiddtich scores on the wireless."

There was laughter all around, as everyone knew Sirius took it to heart when his favourite teams lost. Sirius gave a reticent half-smile.

" _I_ predict you will both be fine," said Alice. "Now I think it's time we give Remus the Bumps. Lads?"

"Brilliant idea," said Peter.

James hopped to his feet, motioning for the others to join him. "Ready Moony?"

"No. NO!" protested Remus. "I'm a bit old for the Bumps aren't I –NOOO!"

He put up a half-hearted fight, and the boys bumped him with relative ease. Everyone joined in the counting, getting more and more raucous with each consecutive number. Remus kept his eyes squeezed shut, bracing himself for the moment when they accidently (or purposely) dropped him, but number eighteen arrived, plus one more for good luck, and they lowered him to the floor, breathless and laughing.

Red from embarrassment, he sat up and smiled. Claire took his face in her hands and kissed him on the lips in front of everyone, which led his mates to howl like wolves. Remus took it all in stride.

Eventually, word travelled there was a party happening, and other students made their way up to the room, including Mira Shafiq and Rory Finnegan. Also making a brief appearance was Phyllis, who had to be dragged into the boys' dorm by Gloria Henderson. Caradoc had been his gregarious self for the first time in weeks - until he saw Phyllis. Then he spent the next half hour doing his best to act sober, because Phyllis wasn't keen on alcohol and he didn't want her to think him a drunk. He had another shot after she left, but part of him had wished she'd stayed a bit longer.

The revelry continued well into the night, with music playing on James' enchanted record player. Dominica stopped in for a bit, and for the first time in months, no one seemed to mind her presence among them. Remus ending up wearing most of his birthday cake, and even Claire got a little tipsy, at one point attempting to dance on top of Remus' bed and nearly falling off. None of the younger residents were awake by the time the girls needed the loo, so they ventured into the boys' bathroom, surprised at how clean it was.

"Poor house elves," Alice said. "Keeping this place sparkling must be a trial, even with magic."

Things started to wind down around three AM when Johnny B. got maudlin over the end of school and how he'd miss everyone, and Gloria told off Edmund Kittle for calling Destiny Adorabella a slag. When he acted offended, she and Opal stormed off. Septima left with them, but not before giving Peter a lingering look, to which he responded by looking like stunned mooncalf.

Claire had gone to sleep on Remus' bed, and Alice conjured some basic mattresses and blankets for anyone else who didn't want to stumble back to their own rooms, a skill she'd improved during Auror training. She and Johnny B. collapsed on the larger one (controlling the size of conjured items was still a challenge for her,) and after Edmund finally buggered off, Caradoc took the smaller one, not wanting to fall down the stairs to his room just to hear Edmund griping all night over Gloria and Opal.

"Don't wake up in the night and mistake me for Frank," Johnny B. snickered to Alice.

She gave his leg a kick. "Normally, I'd say 'you wish,' but, you actually don't."

"But you do, and that's okay. You can't help yourself."

"Listen, gorgeous," said Alice as she laughed, "don't flatter yourself."

Sirius and Annabelle had retreated into their own little world, slow dancing by a window, his face pressed into her shoulder and Nixie's words echoing in his mind. Unlike James and Lily's playful flirting as they danced, full of twirls and dips and laughter, there was an urgency to the way he held Annabelle, like it was the last time he might ever hold her. She started to doze off on her feet, and when she heard Johnny B. and Alice laughing, she kissed Sirius' cheek and pulled back. His eyelids were as heavy as hers.

"Sleepy?" she asked, shivering. The partygoers had taken their body heat with them, leaving a chill in the room.

"I could dance with you all night," he replied.

"Are you sure? You look right knackered to me."

"All right, change the word dance to sleep."

She grinned and led him to his bed, dropping onto it and scooting over so he would have room. They were so tired that sleeping in their clothes wasn't an issue, and they kicked off their shoes before closing the curtains.

His hand found her head in the dark, and he stroked her hair. She kissed him softly, once on the cheek, then his nose, then his other cheek. He released an almost inaudible sigh.

"It's nonsense," said Annabelle, sensing his strain, "the stuff she pretended to see."

"How will we know for sure?"

"All right, let's say she is a true seer. Maybe she was picking up on previous suffering. Merlin knows you've had more than your fair share. And let's not forget she said it was foggy, which I think describes her head more than the crystal ball, but either way, who can believe anything she says?"

"I keep thinking if you'd got yours read as well, we would know more."

"Why? Oh… you think… But Sirius, if she predicted some awful fate for us, would you really want to carry that with you, not knowing if she was lying or not?"

"No. I wouldn't."

"So it's a good thing I didn't get a reading. She would have pulled the same stunt with me, I'm sure."

"But, maybe I could prevent whatever it is from happening if I knew it was coming."

"She's a con artist, as are most people who claim to be seers. A real seer would've had a lot more to say, don't you think?"

"You're probably right."

"I am right. So are Alice, James, Lily, and Johnny B. And Remus knows deep down that stuff is phony. He just liked the part about marrying Claire."

"She didn't even say Claire's name," Sirius went on. "She only said he'd get married. I think a true seer would know the only girl Moony wants to marry was sitting right beside him."

"Good point. See? Now I'm completely convinced she's a fraud."

"She was a proper nutter wasn't she? A quack who couldn't see what was right in front of her, let alone what was inside that magicless chunk of glass."

"Sure, she was a terrible fake," said Annabelle. "Not even _slightly_ believable."

He smiled in the dark, not knowing why he had let some loon under his skin in the first place. In general, he found much of the prophesying business to be bollocks, and as Annabelle had said, Nixie Geist wasn't even a decent fake. He had no reason to believe a word of what she'd said. How unfortunate for her that she got off on scaring people, especially when Voldemort's death toll was rising. For the first time in his life he was tempted to report another student, just to stop her from upsetting the more vulnerable kids with her spook act.

Annabelle's parted lips brushed across his, and he kissed her, feeling a rush of good fortune to be able to hold her and know her, and to love her so completely. Nixie Geist could never understand what a feat it was to overcome his past and be able to love someone so much, or what it took for him to willingly receive love in return. She didn't know him at all, so she couldn't know of his determination to protect what he held dear. Because of this, her words held no weight.

Fortune was fickle, and often unfair, but he had to believe life wasn't meant to be mostly dark with rare moments of light interspersed, giving false hope only to rip it away again. Annabelle would be fine. His mates would be fine. _No one else is going to die_ , he told himself. _I won't let them._

"I love you, Annie," he whispered, tightening his arm around her.

In a drowsy haze, she whispered back, "I love you more."

"Don't count on it."

"I'd bet the world on my love for you."

"Sounds like a Destiny Adorabella lyric, that."

Annabelle giggled, giving him a squeeze. "Next you're going to call me a slag."

"Are you comparing me to Edmund Kittle?"

"Nah, you're far less judgemental. And I want to kiss you. Don't want to kiss Edmund."

Sirius grinned as warmth spread through his cheeks. "Well I'm glad to hear you don't fancy a snog with Edmund."

As she laughed, her eyes closed. _"Your kiss is maaa-gic, so maaa-gic,"_ she crooned off-key, doing her best to imitate Destiny Adorabella's high pitched, but infinitely more in tune singing voice. _"I don't want the spell to break. Your kiss is magic, so-"_ He pressed his lips to hers, and she quieted. After a soft, sleepy kiss, she asked, "Was that sincere, or were you only trying to stop my singing?"

"Both, actually," he teased, and when she whimpered, he corrected himself. "Nah, you can sing all you want to me, and I'll love it, no matter how tuneless. But perhaps you could pick a different song next time. By a different singer, yeah?"

She smiled contentedly, nuzzling her face into his neck. "You might regret saying that."

"Never."

He kissed her head, and it wasn't long before she was breathing soundly. As her body relaxed, so did his. A sense of helplessness had settled in his heart after the crystal ball reading, and a massive effort was required to appear jovial at the beginning of Remus' impromptu party, his despair so close to the surface it hurt to smile. But Annabelle could sense when he was floundering, and would always reach out and steady him without dismissing his apprehension. She made everything better, and a life without her was unimaginable.

"I love you the most," he whispered to the sleeping girl, before the warmth of her lulled him into rest.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Three days later, word spread that Nixie Geist had been cursed on her way back from a Duelling Club meeting.

"The Dementia Curse again," said Lily as she sat down for lunch after an unexpected meeting with the deputy headmistress. "McGonagall wants to see us at three o'clock sharp in her office."

"Why us?" asked Sirius, his eyes narrowed in disgust.

"She told McGonagall we were telling her off over a crystal ball reading. There were witnesses who verified her story."

"Anyone could have cursed her if she was as ominous with them as she was with us."

"I know, Sirius. But she apparently didn't take kindly to being called a fraud."

"Did you tell McGonagall the horrible lies she was pushing?" demanded Annabelle.

"Yes, and McGonagall was disappointed in her. But Nixie wouldn't admit any wrongdoing. She kept claiming everything she saw was foggy, as her 'third eye is still untrained,' so how could we be angry with her for something so vague."

"We have to be questioned anyway," said Alice. "We were all either nearby, or in the room when Claire was cursed, so…"

James closed his eyes, resting an elbow on the table and rubbing his forehead. "Unbelievable. Does McGonagall think we cursed ourselves, as well? Does she think we cursed Claire?"

"And Peter," said Remus, "she thinks we'd curse one of our best mates?"

"Of course she doesn't," said Lily. "She's just following protocol. It would look like she was playing favourites if she didn't question us. She knows we're innocent."

"Told you lot getting your fortunes read was a crap idea," said Peter. "The sooner you lot start listening to me, the better off you'll be."

The meeting with McGonagall was short, and they were cleared of any suspicion. Apparently she was meeting with the other suspects as well, and including Bernice Parkinson and Neil Rosier. If anyone present at the time of Claire's cursing was responsible, it was those two, but somehow they managed to elude blame every time.

The next day, Annabelle's main task in the library was to help a class of first years utilise the research section, which meant she did a lot of finding books for them that were right in front of their eyes. When she was done with the task, she spent the last fifteen minutes tidying up, pushing in chairs, returning books to their shelves, throwing wadded up parchments in the bins.

In quiet moments like these, her mind couldn't resist the pull of melancholy. Fairfax always came to mind first, and his family, and poor Mary, their hearts crushed. Of course, Rosie wasn't far behind, and Jack, who James said was becoming scattered and forgetful, and whose sorrow couldn't be masked by the endless attempts he made at good humour. Forcing herself to think of other things, she settled on her Patronus memory, which was still producing a vapour during practice, and little else.

"Look – it's a human-sized house-elf," a snide voice called out. Annabelle immediately recognised it as Mona Nott's. Instead of acknowledging her, she pretended not to hear, too absorbed in picking paper off the floor.

"I thought it was a Leprechaun," Evan Rosier's voice followed.

"House-elf, Leprechaun, what's the difference really?" asked Mona. "Both ugly little creatures, not fit to mingle with the wizarding class."

Annabelle had to chuckle, and she looked straight at them, but not without noticing Evan's brother and Alecto Carrow sitting there as well.

"Like, I understand," she said. "My surname is O'Neill. You hate me. But can't you be a bit more inventive with your insults? Make it entertaining for me at least?"

"Oh, that's right," said Alecto. "You're English now. By _injection_."

As they burst into laughter, Annabelle grimaced, galled by the crude talk.

"You're absolutely the most vulgar person I've ever met," she retorted, "and that's saying something, considering the way your brother talks."

"Oh, look at my tears," whined Alecto. "The holiest, most sacred of Gryffindorks shamed me. However will I go on?"

"How about we call you a haughty little suck-up," hissed Mona, "so far up McGonagall's arse you'd think her shit was gold."

Annabelle had had enough, and strode away, not wanting to rise to their bait a moment longer.

"There she goes, off to tell McGonagall," said Neil Rosier with a laugh. In a squeaky voice, he mimicked, _"Professor, they must be the ones the cursing people. They hate me! Now make room in your bum for a Leprechaun!"_

"She'd better run," threatened Mona.

Resentment ground its way into Annabelle's chest as she continued walking, hearing their cackles rise up in her wake. She'd be a fool to defend herself. They wanted to see her as the enemy, to cut her to pieces, and nothing she did or said would ever change that. They needed people to hate – it permitted them to believe they were better than everyone else.

With approximately ten minutes left to go on her shift, she swiped her books and parchment from behind the main check-out desk, and stormed to the exit without a word to Madam Wigworthy. She knew the tossers were watching, and she didn't want to give them the satisfaction of Wigworthy turning down her request to leave early. She wrenched the door open, bitterness burning in her veins.

"Feck!" she snapped as she stepped into the hallway, and then her eyes registered Sirius, who was sitting on the bottom step, reading his Potions textbook while he waited for her.

"You're early," he said. "Wiggly was feeling generous today, I take it?"

"Yeah, sure she was."

 _Calm down,_ Annabelle scolded herself in her head, but it was too late.

"What happened?" he asked, his grey eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

"Nothing important." She started down the stairs to the Potions classroom, and he hopped to his feet, following her. She intended to put as much distance between him and the Slytherins as possible before telling him the rest, and she picked up her pace.

"Something's got you steaming," he called from behind her. "Someone mess you about in there?"

His voice was controlled, which she knew wasn't easy for him. He wanted to know what, or more specifically who, had upset her, and she loved him for it, but she couldn't allow him to charge in there after them, continuing the pointless battle over some of the most immature, vile talk she'd heard in a long time. Additionally, she didn't want them to think she needed Sirius to fight her battles for her.

"It was just some piss-takers, trying to rile me up. Having a laugh at my expense. Sad for them, really."

Her own words rang false to her ears, since the Slytherins' renewed interest in stirring up trouble was actually rather unsettling. Not wanting to read into it, she turned down the corridor which led to the classroom, but not without peeking behind her to make sure Sirius was still with her. His legs being as long as they were, he was next to her in a second, swinging an arm round her shoulders.

"Annie. I can read you like a book. Just tell me it was Evan-fucking-Rosier and I will turn round right now, and-"

"No!" she snapped, and he slowly dropped his arm from her shoulders. "That's why I didn't want to tell you. Because going after him won't make a difference. It was petty talk – calling me Leprechaun, implying I run to McGonagall for everything, which isn't even remotely true, mind you..."

"They shouldn't be saying anything to you at all."

"I know that, but it was so childish, and – and – _stupid_ … I don't want you to give it more power by reacting to it, yeah? They're an embarrassment to themselves."

Sirius stared sullenly at the floor, clearly not mollified. "They think they're superior," he growled. "That they're entitled to speak to you that way, because they're Purebloods. They think they can cut people down…"

For him, Annabelle recognised, retaliating against them was retaliating against his upbringing, against the people who had repeatedly judged and hurt him. Evan and his mates emitted the same foul stench of elitism his entire family had for centuries, and seeing those horrific ideals being used to hurt his loved ones would always offend him to his core, no matter how asinine their commentary.

"But we know they're not superior," she said. "They're mistaken."

"They're _grotesque_."

Biting her lower lip, she stared into his eyes, their intensity piercing.

"That as well." She took his hand and laced her fingers with his. "Let's go to class, look over our notes. I have a feeling Slughorn's going to test us on Friday's lecture, and I'm not sure I'm ready."

Much to her relief, Sirius complied, perhaps because he didn't want to upset her further. It was better that way. If he didn't strike back immediately, the lot of them would wonder what he had in store for them, and messing with their heads might be rather satisfying. Rising to their bait had never done any good anyway, and June was so close, she felt like she could reach out and touch their independence. In a matter of months, they would leave behind the judgement imposed on them by a gang of entitled purebloods. And maybe then, Sirius could finally be free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a small note – this month marks two years of this story! How time flies. Things have been hectic round here, but I have no plans to abandon it. So stayed tuned, and drop me a review if you're still with me. I love hearing from you! :)


	20. Lions and Snakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry for the wait. I've been busy lately with unavoidable life stuff, but believe me when I say I'd rather be writing. :) I'm sure you are sick of excuses, but I want you to know I'm working on the story whenever I can, so don't give up on me!
> 
> Sorry for any typos – I proofed this one quickly.

At the end of March, a get together was held at James' home in Muddiwick for his eighteenth birthday. Since his birthday fell on Easter Sunday, it was an extravagant affair, with Lily's parents as well as his closest friends in attendance. It was also his first birthday without his mum, so having everyone there was a great comfort.

"I think Dotty went a bit overboard with the food," Lily whispered to him, her eyes scanning the feast laid out before them. There was baked ham with apricot stuffing, roast lamb with fresh herbs from Rosie's garden, spring cabbage, carrots, and potatoes cooked in a variety of ways, along with gravy and mint sauce. It was enough to feed to all of Muddiwick.

"She likes to make sure everyone gets what they like," explained James.

He had mentioned prior to the gathering that his father was becoming forgetful, and despite Jack's efforts to be his usual charming, witty self, it was clear during the meal he was slipping. He'd forget what he was saying mid-sentence and stare off into the distance, or he'd be too preoccupied to follow what others were saying, not laughing when the punchline of a joke was reached, and not able to participate in conversations due to his lack of attention. James had urged him to see a healer, but Jack refused, no longer seeming to care about himself, evident in his uncombed hair, his clothing which hadn't been changed in days, and his disinterest in the family business which was in the process of being sold.

Everyone did their best to remain cheerful in his presence, not calling attention to his sudden mental decline, and he seemed to appreciate their efforts.

James, on the other hand, was more anxious than ever, the feeling of powerlessness growing by the day. His dad was his hero, and now he was slowly drifting away from the land of the living. James didn't think he could survive losing another parent, especially so soon after his mother's passing, so he listened when his mates told him his dad was still in mourning and would be all right… eventually.

By April, several students were pulled out of school by their parents due to the cursings, including Nixie Geist. Professor McGonagall was losing her patience with the situation, and called upon Professor Slughorn to be more vigilant with his Slytherins, which included accompanying Mona Nott and Neil Rosier on their prefect assignments. The two Slytherins were not happy about it, tantruming and calling it unfair, but after Slughorn threatened to report their disrespectful behaviour to their parents, they piped down and tolerated his presence.

But when Slughorn was not around to mind them, they were up to their old tricks with a vengeance. Alice and Remus had been descending the stairs from the Owlery when a hex hit them from above, causing them both to trip and stumble down a few steps. "Tattle tales," a voice called, followed by laughter, but when Alice and Remus ran up the stairs to catch the culprits, they were gone.

In Transfiguration one Tuesday, Lily answered a question McGonagall had asked the class, and Amycus Carrow coughed, "Suck up."

When McGonagall turned toward the board, James sent a charmed paper aeroplane at him, which hit him in the eyeball.

"Ow, you bastard!" Amycus cried out, his hand over his eye. McGonagall whipped around.

"Mr. Carrow," she intoned. "What is the problem?"

"Potter scratched my cornea with a paper plane!" he exclaimed.

"Report to Madam Pomfrey," she said tiredly. "Mr. Potter, what do you have to say for yourself?"

James shifted uncomfortably. "Nothing, ma'am. I sent a paper plane at him."

"Detention at three with Mr. Filch."

"I have a prefect meeting at three, ma'am."

"Tomorrow then, Mr. Potter."

James didn't bat an eye, as he was used to hearing those words, but he was rather embarrassed to be the only head boy in recent history to continuously receive detentions.

McGonagall turned back to the board, but barely finished writing another word when Gloria Henderson snapped at Delilah Burke.

"If you kick my chair once more you'll be sorry," she seethed.

"Not afraid of you," said Delilah.

"What is the problem now?" demanded McGonagall as she stared them down, but neither responded. "Right," she said. "Time for an exam. Clear your desks."

A chorus of groans rose from the class, but they complied with the professor's orders. Once the test was underway, the class calmed down a bit. Amycus returned a few minutes later, holding a cloth to his eye. Caradoc turned round and whispered to Annabelle, "You'd think he was hit with a hex instead of paper plane, the way he's acting."

"Big baby," she replied.

When she was finished with her exam, she put down her quill and waited, peeking across the room to Sirius. He was finished as well, and he glanced back her, sending her a wink. Just as she smiled at him, a parchment ball probably intended for James smacked Sirius in the head. As Annabelle turned in the direction from which it had come, she too was hit with one. It was obviously Damon Wilkes, who was wearing a grin as he stared down at his exam.

"Loser," Caradoc muttered in Damon's direction.

"Mudblood," Damon replied, followed by snickers from nearby Slytherins.

Caradoc looked at Annabelle, his jaw set, and she whispered, "Ignore him. He wants to get you in tr-"

"Professor!" cried a young student from the door. "I think my mate's been cursed! Please come!"

McGonagall paused in frustration, looking at her class with their exams still in front of them, then back to the girl at the door who was starting to cry.

"Miss Evans, please collect the exams now and place them on my desk. As for the rest of you," she said as she made her way to the door, "you are to read chapter 48 in your text books _silently_. The head boy and girl shall be in charge. Prefects will report to me when I return. _You have been warned_."

When McGonagall was gone, Lily began collecting papers. Alice helped, and no one gave either of them any problems. Once the girls were seated again, Amycus turned sideways in his chair and stared at James. It took James a moment to realise he was being stared at, and turned to face Amycus. He tried staring back, but he honestly didn't want to look at Amycus. He'd rather look at Lily, or the blue sky out the window. Or anything besides Carrow's rotten face.

So he shrugged and looked away, focusing his attention on picking at a hang-nail. In his peripheral vision, he could see Carrow was still staring at him, but he continued to focus on his finger. And just as he expected, Amycus couldn't tolerate being ignored.

"Like throwing stuff, huh Chaser?" Amycus sneered. "You're mediocre."

"Odd you should say that," James calmly replied, barely looking up, "considering the number of times I scored on your Keeper. He blocked one, for what? Every twenty I sent through the hoops? Didn't see you stopping me."

"Your maths education is deficient, Potter," retorted Evan, defending his Keeper skills. "Might want to pick up some extra tutoring."

"No, his maths education is not deficient," snapped Lily. "He did score on you loads of times. It's a fact."

"And I'm sure he's scored on you loads of times as well," said Amycus. His comment was met with laughter from his friends, but no one else was amused.

"You never stop, do you?" said Sirius. "The excrement leaks incessantly from your mouth, like a broken toilet."

"Toilet-mouth!" someone chirped from the back of the room

"You must be the expert on excrement leaking from your mouth," said Amycus, "contaminating yourself with a mutt like you have been."

Sirius clenched his fists, but Annabelle feigned a loud yawn, and gestured to him to let it go. He tried to breathe slowly, doing his best to follow Dumbledore's advice and remain unmoved, but if Carrow made one more degrading remark, he would explode.

Evan was in stiches over his friend's crude comebacks, almost falling out of his seat. Delilah Burke grinned, but Teagan Travers was pale-faced and sombre as she plead wordlessly with him to stop.

A parchment ball hit Johnny B. in the back of the head, and he jerked round in his chair, eyeing Damon, Amycus, and Evan.

"You're pure shit, the lot of you," he hissed, before turning back around in a huff. "Shitbloods," he mumbled.

"Shitbloods," declared Caradoc with a chuckle, making sure everyone heard. "I like that. Going to use it from now on."

"So am I," said James. "Shitbloods - shit on the pitch, shit for brains…"

"Come off it," said Teagan as she turned in her seat to face James. "You're a pureblood just like the rest of us. So are several of your housemates."

"Not like your lot we aren't!" shouted Alice, standing up. Remus pulled her down.

" _My_ lot?" repeated Teagan. "What do you mean ' _my_ lot?'"

"Leave her lot out of this," warned Evan.

"You sound ridiculous," fumed Lily. "First he's a blood traitor, now he's 'just like you?' You can't have it both ways."

"Right," agreed Sirius, glaring knowingly at Teagan. "You can't have it both ways."

She turned forward in her chair, her head hung and her jaw set.

"Guys guys, relax," said Jacoby. "It's getting dull, the same arguments all the time."

"What do we have here?" said Amycus. "Another whiny blood traitor?"

"Don't you dare, Amycus," warned Esmeralda, her sharp blood-red nail pointed at him. "He hasn't betrayed anyone, despite what your delusions tell you."

Amycus narrowed his eyes. "What's that supposed to mean, ay Es?"

She glared back at him. "It means he owes you _nothing_."

Amycus leaned back in his seat, attempting to look cool, and sneered, "Curb your bitch, Ollivander."

"What did you call her?" shouted Annabelle as she bolted from her seat.

She had been trying to remain calm – the vulgar remarks, the pureblood rubbish – Jacoby was right; it was old and ineffective as far as she was concerned. But referring to Esmeralda as a female dog to be controlled by her boyfriend had lit a fire inside of her, and she couldn't ignore it, even if she was giving Amycus the attention he so craved.

"How dare you?" she railed on, but was cut off by Jacoby.

"You dumb fucker," he said, blasting Amycus out of his seat with the Impedimentia curse. Several cheers and whistles erupted, Sirius and James the loudest of all. At least half the class had jumped out of their seats, their own wands ready. Jacoby took a step towards his fallen housemate, but Amycus rolled over and aimed at him, his wand shaking.

"Brace yourself, Ollivander."

"Curse him and you'll live to regret it," said Esmeralda as she approached, her wand aimed at his head. Several other wands, all Gryffindor, aimed at him as well. Evan laughed at them, muttering something about "a bunch of wannabe-heroes," but oddly enough, he didn't jump to Amycus' defence, either.

"I knew you were weak," said Amycus, eyes on Jacoby. "You're not worthy."

Jacoby laughed. "I take that as a compliment coming from _you_."

The sound of heels clacking along the corridor was heard, and the class scrambled back to their seats. But the sound stopped, and after a moment of waiting, McGonagall didn't appear. Annabelle watched as Damon balled up another piece of parchment, her mouth dropping open as he pelted Esmeralda with it. The paper bounced off Esmeralda's head, nearly smacking Annabelle, but she caught it instead. Rising from her chair, she winged it back at him as hard as she could, at the same time Esmeralda was shouting a hex at him. He flew back in his chair, the paper ball skimming his knee.

"What is the meaning of this!" demanded McGonagall, who had entered the room at the worst possible moment. "Miss Roux and Miss O'Neill! You will explain yourselves."

"He was being rude," Esmeralda replied, her cheeks red with anger.

Jacoby added, "Yeah, he was throwing paper and-"

"Mr. Ollivander. I suggest you let the girls speak for themselves." As Sirius moved to speak, she turned her steely gaze to him. "You'd do well to heed that advice, Mr. Black."

Annabelle shook her head at him in defeat. Arguing wouldn't change the fact that McGonagall had witnessed her and Esmeralda lashing out at a classmate.

"And you girls," McGonagall said, looking from Annabelle to Esmeralda, "have earned yourselves detention."

"But he was the one throwing paper at everyone!" protested Esmeralda.

"He is receiving one as well."

"You're goin' to believe them over me?" Damon piped up, his normally droopy eyes ablaze.

"I happened to catch you in the act, Mr. Wilkes. Three o'clock this afternoon, my office. All three of you."

"But," began Damon, but McGonagall was at her wit's end.

"That will be quite enough, Mr. Wilkes!"

Annabelle found it galling that Amycus Carrow got away with spewing poison, while she and Esmeralda were being punished for standing up to a bully. No one had reported him, though; their friends because they preferred to handle their battles without teacher involvement, and everyone else because no one could be sure he wasn't actually a Death Eater. Getting hit with an unforgivable curse was a real possibility now, and no one wanted to provoke the ones suspected of doing the cursing. So Annabelle sat in her seat, stewing over the whole scene. After a glance at Sirius, she could tell he was livid as well. Everyone was troubled, it seemed, and why not? The bad guys got away with everything.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Later that afternoon, Annabelle and Esmeralda sat sullenly in McGonagall's office, waiting to hear their task. Damon had been sent to help Hagrid ward off a Niffler in the Forbidden Forest, which had been terrorizing a herd of Mooncalves. Without Damon present, at least the detention would be bearable.

McGonagall placed a rolled parchment in front of them. "Because of your internship, I suspect you are experts at paperwork. This is the preliminary list for next year's incoming class. You are to start a folder on each name here. There are the folders," she said as she pointed to a stack of heavy brown folders, each with silk ribbons attached to tie them shut. "I have a meeting with the Headmaster, but I trust you can carry on without me."

She gave Annabelle a disapproving look, and despite what had happened in class, and the unfairness of receiving a detention for her part in it, Annabelle felt a tiny bit ashamed. She had no reason to feel that way, since all she did was throw a paper ball at someone who had been throwing them repeatedly, but she respected McGonagall. The woman was a role model - a confident, independent woman - and truth be told, Annabelle wished her own mum was more like her. When McGonagall was cross with Annabelle over minor things, she felt cared for. Like someone had hopes and expectations for her, the way a mother was supposed to.

"Yes, ma'am," Annabelle said quietly, darting her eyes away.

Esmeralda scowled, but when McGonagall looked at her expectantly, she managed a begrudging, "Yes, ma'am."

"Professor," said Annabelle, "is the person who was cursed all right?"

"Yes, because it was a false alarm. She had consumed one too many chocolate frogs and her stomach had a rather violent reaction. She is recovering in the hospital wing at the moment."

"Glad to hear it."

As soon as McGonagall was gone, Esmeralda snapped her gum, startling Annabelle.

"Sorry," she said, then she picked up the parchment. "Might as well get started."

They worked silently at first, their quills scratching across folders, Esmeralda's gum snapping intermittently. Sirius had advised Annabelle not to go to the detention at all because, as he insisted, McGonagall was wrong. Annabelle had agreed, but couldn't fathom not showing up. Wrong or not, she refused to make the situation worse by defying the professor. And being forced to spend time with Esmeralda wasn't the worst punishment. Not that she considered her a friend, per se, but she wasn't as uncomfortable with her now that she'd spent several afternoons working with her at the Ministry.

"Thanks for standing up for me, by the way," Esmeralda said suddenly. "I appreciate it, even though you probably should have stayed out of it."

"Why should I have done that?"

"Because Amycus isn't keen on you, you know, because of your granddad. He's not keen on any of your mates, especially Sirius."

"I'm well aware of his loathing for us. Doesn't mean we have to cower to him."

"Just be careful."

Annabelle's brow furrowed in confusion. "Are you warning me? Because if he's got something evil planned for us, you could do the decent thing and tell me outright. Skip all this cryptic nonsense."

"No, I – I don't know what he's got planned, or if he's planning anything at all. I'm not exactly in the loop these days. I don't think they trust me anymore. As you could probably tell, they don't trust Jacoby either, but he was never much like them anyway. Then again, a few years ago no one talked about Voldemort, did they?"

"I reckon not."

"It's sort of like his influence is spreading and everyone's true colours are coming out. And it turns out Amycus - he's - he's not who I thought he was. Jacoby can't stand him anymore, and Evan just agrees with whatever Amycus says, even when he really doesn't mean it, because they've been mates since they were small. Teagan's going mad being caught in the middle. She's having panic attacks… Madam Pomfrey had to sedate her twice this month."

Annabelle couldn't help but feel sorry for the residents of Slytherin house who didn't subscribe to the Pureblood Elite's bigoted, hateful creed. It must have been hellish, being outnumbered in one's own residence.

"I feel for Teagan," offered Annabelle, "but sorry if I have a hard time believing Evan isn't the same as Amycus. From the way he talks, it's no secret he detests muggles."

"He does, but that's because of his dad. D'you know what happened to him?"

"I heard about it, yes."

"Right, well, Evan was gutted. Still is, really. Deep down he knows better than to blame all muggles, I think."

"I hope so."

"So do I. For Teagan's sake. She's bloody mad for him."

"Maybe you shouldn't be saying too much about them either. Wouldn't want them targeting you next."

"Eh, they wouldn't dare," she said, but there was doubt in her voice.

They fell into silence again and finished their task with time to spare. McGonagall still hadn't returned. Esmeralda had sunk back into her chair and was examining her nails. Annabelle couldn't help but stare at them – they were hideous. But to each her own she reckoned.

Ever since Annabelle could remember, Esmeralda had worn makeup, and lots of it. A small part of Annabelle was fascinated by it: the perfect lines of black beneath sparkly blue or purple eyeshadow, her eyelashes long and curled, her precisely lined lips, currently painted an intense violet. Seeing her artistry close up was awe-inspiring, considering Annabelle could barely apply mascara without poking herself in the eye.

"Shite," Esmeralda grumbled and pulled out her wand. She aimed it at a nail and whispered something in Latin. Holding her hand up for inspection, she said, "That's better." She turned to Annabelle, who was watching curiously. "Cracked nail. Sorry. Can't stand cracked nails." Her eyes drifted to Annabelle's plain fingers, then she looked away.

For some reason Annabelle felt the need to explain. "I bite mine too much to grow them long. And I'm not very good at painting them. Always make a mess of things."

"Can't one of your mates do it for you?"

"I imagine they could." Truthfully, the only nail varnish Annabelle owned was a red one she and Lily had worn in Paris. It didn't feel suitable for classes, so at school, her nails were usually bare. But she didn't think Esmeralda needed to know all that.

"Want me to polish your nails? I have some in my bag."

Esmeralda pulled her white fringy bag into her lap and began rummaging through it, but Annabelle was hesitant.

"Oh, em… well…"

"I can do other colours. It's magic – the varnish that is. Dries instantly, no spell needed."

Annabelle had read about the colour-changing varnish in Siren magazine. It was only available at exclusive apothecaries and of course, at Le Creneau in Paris. And at 40 galleons a bottle, it was inaccessible to most of the wizarding world. It never ceased to floor her how rich most Purebloods were.

"All right, go on then," said Annabelle, her curiosity winning in the end.

"Baby blue?" suggested Esmeralda, and Annabelle wrinkled her nose. "How about a lovely pale lavender? I think it would suit you."

Annabelle gave a nod, and Esmeralda got started, tapping the applicator three times as she said an incantation in which the only word Annabelle recognised was "colour." The nail varnish instantly turned pale lavender.

"Blimey," said Annabelle, her eyes wide. "It actually works."

"Don't be so surprised. It's only magic."

"Of course. Magic. How many shades can one bottle make?"

Esmeralda took Annabelle's fingers and brushed the applicator over her thumbnail. "Twenty. This one does cool tones. The bonus is, you only need one coat, and it stays on until you take it off. You could keep this colour on forever if you like."

"I wonder if Sirius could figure out how to do this," said Annabelle, thinking aloud.

Esmeralda laughed. "You want Sirius to paint your nails?"

"What? Oh - no," said Annabelle, smiling at the misunderstanding. "I meant maybe he could figure out how it works. We could make our own."

"But why would you go to all that trouble when you could just buy it?"

There was the blaring elitism so common among Purebloods, the complete disconnect from how most of the world lived. Annabelle couldn't get angry at her for it, though. It was obvious Esmeralda and her peers were raised in the lap of luxury, and knew no other way of life.

Yet, as a child, Annabelle hadn't struggled for money either, so maybe she shouldn't have been making excuses for the girl's ignorance. Sure, the O'Neill's weren't as wealthy as the majority of families among the Sacred 28, but they were well-off compared to others. Annabelle had everything she needed and then some, and had still managed to grow up with an awareness of the world around her. Maybe it was because money wasn't worshipped in the O'Neill household as it was in most Pureblood homes, or maybe it had more to do with the selflessness of her grandfather, always reaching out to others with his boundless generosity.

"I don't know," said Annabelle, deciding not to lecture Esmeralda on her skewed perception of the division of wealth in wizarding society. "Might be fun to crack the formula. Sirius is brilliant with potions. So is Lily. In fact, if they worked on it together, I bet they'd be able to open their own shop by the weekend."

Esmeralda gave a little shrug, as though she still couldn't see the point. She had the galleons, therefore she could buy it. End of story.

"You and Sirius have been together a while now, yeah?"

"About a year and half. Why?"

"Just wondering. I could never admit this to Elsinore, but I always thought she was daft to keep after him like she was. He was so clearly put off by her. With you it's totally different."

"Well I should hope he's not put off by me."

"I just mean he's keen on you. It's quite noticeable. She _hated_ that. But, as my mum always says ' _C'est la vie.'_ "

Annabelle struggled not to smile too big. She loved that his affection for her was noticeable.

"She isn't still hung up on him, is she?"

"I wouldn't know. I told you I haven't spoken to her in ages. I think she's at Beauxbatons. Her parents made a rather large donation to get her there, or so I've heard."

"Figures."

"She thought she was going to marry him," said Esmeralda. "Right smug about it, she was, talking about how she was going to marry the fittest lad at Hogwarts, have beautiful babies, and be the envy of society. Convinced he'd snap out of whatever phase he was in."

The talk of Elsinore and her plans for a future with Sirius was making Annabelle increasingly uncomfortable. The girl was a loon, full stop.

"Well, he didn't," she said, "because it wasn't a phase. His _conscience_ isn't a phase."

"Right, of course," said Esmeralda, concentrating as she laid paint on another finger. "He's not the person she wanted him to be. Everyone knows that now. Besides, Jacoby thinks he's ace, and Jacoby can read people, like. Says he's better off with you than her, and not that it's any of my business, but I can't say I disagree. Don't tell anyone I said that, though."

A pang of remorse throbbed in Annabelle's chest over the divide between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Because for all of Esmeralda's elitist quirks, she wasn't evil, nor was her Slytherin boyfriend. In a better world, they all might have been friends, real friends who sought each other out, and not just people who were friendly when forced to be together for internships and detentions.

"I won't tell," Annabelle said. "You and Jacoby are official then?"

Esmeralda smiled sheepishly. "Have been for a three and half months. Shocking, yeah?"

"Why is it shocking?"

"I never thought I was his type. Thought he'd end up with Delilah. She's brilliant and passionate about her beliefs like he is, despite not agreeing on anything. They argued about politics constantly, most of the time I didn't know what they were going on about. I'm glad I was wrong about them, because he's nicer to me than anyone. Like he really cares about me."

"He's a keeper, then."

Esmeralda looked confused. "No… he's a Beater."

"Huh? Oh, you thought I meant – I was just trying to say he's worth keeping around. He's a keeper."

"Oh, right! I thought you meant a Keeper, like Sirius."

"Sirius is definitely a keeper, in both ways."

They fell into a fit of giggles, and as Esmeralda finished Annabelle's nails, they looked at the clock. They had twenty minutes left, and McGonagall still hadn't returned.

"Now it's time for your make up."

"My – my makeup?"

But Esmeralda was already digging through her bag, slapping products on the edge on McGonagall's desk.

"We've loads of time left. If McGonagall comes back, I'll finish it after we're through here. Come on, it'll be fun! I'll try to keep it light, but so you know, I'm better at more dramatic looks."

Annabelle considered her offer, and decided to accept. It was only makeup, which she could wash off if it was too outrageous. "Do whatever you do best."

"Really? I can do your hair as well…"

"Ah, why not. Just don't make me look horrid on purpose."

She raised an eyebrow at Annabelle. "I wouldn't do that."

"Didn't really think you would."

Twenty minutes later, Annabelle took the compact from Esmeralda's hand and looked in the mirror. A stranger looked back at her. It was almost as extreme as when Zelda and Twyla had done her hair and make-up, but this was more shocking somehow. She looked like an amplified version of Esmeralda herself, from the mass of hair piled on her head, loose tendrils trailing down her neck and the rest falling in waves down her back, to the winged eyeliner and enormous lashes, and finally, the shimmering neon rainbow of eye shadow and dark, glossy lips.

"Merlin's bollocks," Annabelle gasped. "Wow!"

"I was trying for a Debbie Harry look, you know, Blondie?"

"Sort of. All right, not really."

"Have a listen. She's amazing."

"Is she a witch?"

"Muggle. Have to be careful who's about when I play her records." She forced a chuckle, but there was tension in it. Annabelle never thought she'd see the day she felt sympathy for Esmeralda Roux, but to feel obligated to hide who she was – it wasn't fair.

"If you hate it I can take it off," she offered. "I have this potion -"

"No! No, no, no." Annabelle wasn't sure how she felt about it, but hate wasn't even close. Bold. Empowered. Wild. These were the words popping into her head as she stared in awe at her reflection. "It's wicked."

"You like it, then?"

"I think I do! I mean, it's not something I would wear everyday, but once in a while it might be rather fun."

"Here, take this potion. It's the best for removing makeup."

The label read _Visage Nettoyer,_ by a company called _La Meilleure Peau_ , a ridiculously expensive French skincare line based in Rue Fantasque.

"Oh, I couldn't."

"It's nothing, really – I've a fresh bottle in my room. Just take it. Your makeup will stay in place exactly as it is until you remove it. But I don't recommend keeping it on overnight as you could break out in spots."

"Right, don't want that."

"Although I have Le Face spot cream if you ever need it." Another expensive magical product.

"S'all right. I'll take it off before bed."

"Look at you," said Esmeralda, leaning back and balancing her chair on the back legs. "I think I did a top job. Maybe my best work yet."

"You certainly have talent."

"You're going to be the talk of Gryffindor showing up like that."

"I should hope so."

Esmeralda giggled, and so did Annabelle. The giggles turned to hysteria when Esmeralda almost tipped over in her chair, catching herself just in time. Annabelle hadn't laughed so hard in ages.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

McGonagall's office wasn't far from Gryffindor Tower, but with the curser still on the loose, Sirius didn't want to take any chances, so he headed over early to wait for Annabelle. James and Remus were at a prefect meeting, and Peter was nowhere to be found, so while he wasn't keen on fighting an attacker alone, he would if he had to. But the only one there when he arrived was Teagan Travers, her arms crossed tightly over herself, and her face stoic. He gave a nod as he found a spot against the wall. There was a sadness in her eyes as she nodded back and quickly looked away.

The silence between them was awkward, and Sirius found himself repeatedly checking his watch. When it was ten minutes past the time Annabelle was supposed to be dismissed, he decided to say something.

"Should we see what's keeping them?"

Teagan gave a shrug and went to the door, slowly opening it. The first sound to greet them was raucous laughter.

"Are you finished yet?" Teagan's soft voice said from the doorway. The girls' mirth subsided as they turned to find her standing there, a wounded look on her face. "You should have been dismissed ten minutes ago."

Esmeralda glanced at the clock. "Oh shite. Where is that woman?"

"Don't know," said Annabelle, "but I'm getting out of here before she comes back."

"Afraid she won't approve of your face?" teased Esmeralda, but there was no malice in her voice.

"She's my head of house," replied Annabelle. "Don't really want a sermon on the benefits of modesty today."

Sirius heard her comment from the corridor, and found it a very un-Annabelle-like thing to say. But when she stepped out of the office, he realised why she'd said it. His jaw dropped.

"See you later, Es," said Annabelle. Without so much as a smile, Teagan brushed past her into the office to wait for her friend to pack up her belongings.

"See you, Annie," called Esmeralda. "And thanks again… for what you did in class."

"No thanks necessary. I can't stand it when boys use that word against girls. Oh, and thanks for the makeover."

"Any time," said Esmeralda. "I mean it."

Annabelle smiled, but when she met Teagan's unfriendly gaze, she hurried away, happy to see Sirius waiting for her.

"What did you do to yourself!?" he asked, taking her face in his hands.

"I didn't. Esmeralda did."

His expression went grim. "Wait. Are you telling me you let her put that stuff all over your _mouth_? Your _eyes_? Without knowing if it was tainted with something harmful or… I don't know… deadly?"

"Shhh, she'll hear you." She linked her arm though his and urged him toward Gryffindor Tower. "She's not like that and you know it."

"Do I know it? She's still one of them, Annie."

"They're not all the same!" she whispered sharply. "Her own housemates don't even trust her anymore! It's not like it used to be."

"And _you_ trust her? Come on, how can you be so naïve?"

" _Naïve_? Maybe you're a bit paranoid. Ever think of that?"

"I'd rather be paranoid than gullible!" He raked his hands over his head. "Merlin, Annabelle, you're going to get yourself killed one of these days!"

His words were like a slap in the face, and her cheeks burned with indignation. "Fine. Good. I'll take my gullible self to my room. Hopefully I won't get killed along the way due to my own idiocy."

She pick up her pace and when she reached the tower, she said the password.

"Flitterbloom."

"Wait. Annie, please. I'm sorry – I – I-" He blew out a breath and rubbed his forehead, closing his eyes for a moment before continuing. "They're crafty, you know? They'll stop at _nothing_."

"But look! My face is _fine_. No permanent damage. She even gave me a potion to take it off."

"Can I see it?"

Annabelle huffed, but handed over the potion. "Here."

Sirius took the bottle and drizzled a small amount onto the back of his hand. After rubbing it in, he sniffed it, then wrinkled his nose. "Smells awful. Seems harmless enough, but only time will tell."

"I know it's harmless, because she used it on me already when she made a mistake. And it smells like orange blossoms. I think it's lovely."

Sirius leaned against the bannister, his arms crossed over his chest. "Listen, I want to give her the benefit of the doubt. Ollivander seems like a decent chap. But I… how do we know? How can we be sure of anyone?"

"We can't I reckon, but if Esmeralda is on a mission from the Dark Lord, I doubt he's going to murder me with lipstick."

A corner of Sirius' mouth twitched with the urge to smile. "Death by lipstick."

"And if she was playing a harmful prank, would she really do it inside McGonagall's office?"

"You have a point."

She looked down at the floor, then warily raised her eyes to his. Arguing with him was her least favourite thing to do, and she could never understand couples like Lorelei and Norvel who had fought constantly before he finished school, feeding off the discord.

Instead of carrying on further, she approached him and uncrossed his arms, securing them round her waist. Running her fingers through his hair, she said, "I'll try to be less naïve, if you'll give me some credit. I'm not completely daft when it comes to people, you know."

"I know," he said, brushing his nose against her cheek. "It feels like your skin. Like there's nothing there."

"Magic. Expensive magic at that. You could probably buy a racing broom or two with the makeup she had in her bag."

The expensive part didn't seem to faze him. Like Esmeralda, luxury products were the norm in his household growing up, and in the Potter's as well. He had probably never used ordinary shampoo or a cheap bar of soap in his entire life.

"Are you sure it's going to come off?" he asked.

Annabelle nodded slowly, smiling as her hands slid down his torso. "I'm sure."

"I don't want anything to happen to you," he said, a helplessness in his eyes as he pulled her closer.

"I'm fine. But I'd be even better if you'd kiss me."

He pressed his lips to hers, kissing her lightly, his eyes still open. He couldn't get over her dramatic face.

"What's the matter," she asked. "It's still me in here."

"Right, but you look so… _different_."

"Do you like it?"

"Hmmm," he said as he studied her. "It's interesting. You look like an entertainer or something."

She narrowed her eyes. "What sort of entertainer?"

"Like an opera singer or a dancer."

"Oh. I thought you were going to say a stripper. Or a clown."

"Sure, why not? Those as well."

"Hey!" she cried, squeezing his bum. "That's not funny. Besides, I happen to like it. Makes me feel daring. Reckless. Like I'd climb on the back of a motorbike with you and fly off into the sunset."

"Does it now? In that case, I love it. You should wear it more often."

She kissed him again, but he broke away, not sure if she was being sincere about the motorbike thing.

"Did you mean that? You'll ride a motorbike with me? Because I could get one next weekend. We could be hitting the open skies in no time at all."

"Probably best to wait until school's finished and you have somewhere to keep it."

"Annie, I'm a wizard. I could keep it in my pocket if I wanted to."

"True, but then you might lose it."

"All right, I'll wait until school's finished. Now, back to my question. Do you mean it?

"Sure I mean it. I'll be terrified, but we'll wear helmets when we're on the road, right?"

"Even with the safety charms I plan to put on it?" Her eyebrows shot up, and he was quick to concede. "All right, helmets it is. Now I can't bloody _wait_ to get one. It's going to be incredible! You'll see. You're going to love it, I know it!"

"But how do you know _you'll_ love it?" she asked.

"Speed, freedom, flight… do you really need to ask?"

"No," she said, running her fingers over his bottom lip. "Silly me."

Seeing him so excited tugged at her heart, and she felt hope rising inside of her, as it so often did. How different things would be soon. It was difficult to worry about Voldemort when making grand plans for the future.

"So… still feeling daring?" he asked as his hands moved under her shirt.

"Hmm, let me think," and with that she grabbed him by the collar and kissed him hard on the mouth.

"No one's upstairs," he breathed, his mouth finding her neck. "God Annie, I want you so much."

"But someone could walk in."

"Secret tower?" he suggested.

"Let me get the cloak first. And I'll leave a note that we went for a walk, so no one worries."

Moments later, her shirt fell to the cold floor of their secret tower, and three seconds after that, Sirius' shirt followed. Her exposed skin broke out in gooseflesh, and Sirius held her close, trying to keep her warm.

"Cold, abandoned towers aren't the ideal place for this sort of thing," he said, rubbing her back as she planted a trail of kisses over his shoulder. He unhooked her bra, and she slipped it off before pressing herself to him, luxuriating in the feeling of his body flush against hers.

"Beggars can't be choosers," she replied.

"Sure we can," he said before kissing her again. He ran a hand over her hair, steadying himself in rush of longing. He ached for her, but he didn't want to hurry.

"What do you mean," she asked against his lips.

"Alice isn't the only one who knows how to conjure a mattress."

Annabelle grinned. "What if we get caught?"

"We could just as easily get caught without a mattress. And you've been coming here for almost seven years. Has anyone discovered you?"

"Only Jaeger."

Sirius' eyes darkened at the mention of the murderous professor. "And he's currently rotting in Azkaban. So I think the odds are in our favour, no?"

"Go on then, let's see what you can do."

He reached to the windowsill for his wand, and to her amazement, he conjured a mattress, much like the ones Alice had the night of Remus' party. Next, a warm blanket appeared. He guided her on top of it, then went to work on her skirt.

Annabelle was still for a moment. "You're amazing."

"I was just going to say the same about you."

"But the ease with which you learn things… it's remarkable."

He smiled down at her, equally amazed at how good she made him feel - how special - like he was more than the waste of flesh he'd been told he was, time and time again, for most of his young life. Then her hands were on his face, pulling his mouth to hers as she maneuvered her way on top of him.

"I must say, you make a lovely clown," he said as she undid his trousers.

She giggled, then kissed his lips. "You make a lovely person."

Sirius' smile faded, and he kissed her with such urgency she thought she would melt into him.

"You're everything to me," he whispered into her ear.

Her eyes warmed with tears, which she hid from him by kissing his chest. "As you are to me."

He was hers, and always would be. Elsinore never stood a chance.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The following morning, Annabelle was shelving library books while her friends sat at a nearby table; James, Lily, and Peter on one side, Sirius, Alice, and Remus on the other. They were doing more joking and laughing than revising, but she didn't have the heart to shush them, especially since it was the happiest they'd been at the same time as each other in months. For a blissful moment, all felt right with the world.

Zelda stopped by a few minutes later under the guise of "helping," but she was really there to talk Annabelle's ear off.

"I'm supposed to be assisting McGonagall but she and Dumbledore had to rush to the Greenhouse. The boy who came for help said someone gave the Venomous Tentacula too much growth spray and it's got several students in its grasp. I wanted to go with them but McGonagall told me to fetch Madam Pomfrey. And _she_ told me not to follow."

"So you're just wandering about the castle alone, then?"

"No. I came here to see you," she said, bouncing on her tip-toes.

After that it was Brogan Travers this and Brogan Travers that. Annabelle didn't know how to tell her she was wasting her time on him at the moment, since Brogan was basically an oblivious little second-year, probably more interested in Quidditch than figuring out relationships. She was glad when Zelda finally changed the subject.

"I think when I finish school, I'm going to change my name to Frostine," she said. Annabelle snorted a laugh, but quickly cleared her throat when Zelda frowned.

"But Zelda is a great name. Why would you change it?"

"It was my grandmother's name, and she was sort of mean and grouchy. Frostine is so beautiful. Much happier and more _captivating_ than Zelda _."_ She grimaced as she said her name.

"I always think of Zelda as a happy name," said Annabelle, "because you're so lively and bright."

"But I have black hair," she responded, pouting some more as she lifted a lock from her shoulder and let it fall.

"So? What does that have to do with anything? Sirius has black hair, as do James and Johnny B. Wouldn't you say they're lively and bright?"

"Yes, but they're boys. Ingrid says boys prefer blonds."

"And it's no coincidence Ingrid happens to _be_ a blond - one who likes to mess you about, no less. For the love of Merlin, don't listen to a word she says, _please_. Just be yourself and in a few years, the boys will notice. Trust me."

"Years?"

"Probably. But only because they're clueless at your age."

Zelda allowed herself a small smile. "You're right about that."

"Tell me something I don't know, _Frostine_."

Zelda giggled, her face lighting up.

"Frostine?" repeated Sirius as he strolled over, taking the books from Annabelle's hands and levitating them to their proper places for her. "Did I hear you correctly?"

"Zelda wants to change her name."

"But Zelda is a great name. It's powerful and mysterious. Can't imagine why you'd change it."

Zelda fought her grin, but it won in the end. "Yeah, I think I'll keep my name after all. Don't know what I was thinking."

"Good plan," said Annabelle, not surprised that Sirius would be the one to convince her, charmer that he was.

Soon it was time for class, and the lot of them packed up their belongings and made their way to the exit. Zelda tagged along, eagerly weaving between them, completely in her element as one of the few younger students with connections to the seventh-years of her house.

Still laughing over the name Frostine, Annabelle pushed open the door, Sirius and the others behind her. Annabelle's laughter was contagious and Sirius joined in, thrilled that the more he laughed, the harder it was for her to stop, and how he loved the sound of it.

But as they stepped into the foyer, blood sprayed the air, splattering all over Sirius. He looked down at himself in a moment of pure terror, yet it wasn't his blood - he wasn't the one hit.

Then Annabelle shrieked, and his heart dropped like a weight to the floor.

 


	21. Brutal Awareness

Zelda lost consciousness almost instantly, and Annabelle dropped to her knees beside her. She attempted to cover her neck where the blood was escaping, but with every beat of Zelda's heart, more blood gushed from her. A split second later, James was beside the unconscious girl, magically tearing her robes open near the collarbone.

"What happened?" Annabelle asked, her voice tremulous as she squeezed Zelda's limp hand. "Who would hurt her!?"

"I'll get Madam Pomfrey," said Alice, bolting to the stairs. Peter, who had turned as white as a sheet, followed her, eager to escape the unfolding nightmare.

"She's in the Greenhouse!" cried Annabelle, remembering what Zelda had said in the library. "So is Dumbledore!"

"Looks like Sectumsempra," said James as he pressed his hands against the wound. "It went deep enough to sever a major vessel. Got to stop the bleeding or she'll be dead in minutes."

"Isn't there a counter-spell?" asked Lily.

"Only Snivellus knows the answer to that," James spat. "There's no time to find him - I need to seal the cut _now_." He lifted his hands to attempt a charm, but immediately put them back again when more blood poured from her. "Oh god, she needs to be at the hospital! Sodding anti-apparition jinx!"

"I'll see if I can find help," said Remus, taking off down an adjacent corridor towards the classrooms.

James tried again to stop the bleeding, shaking as he used the Body Transparency Charm to search for the cut vessel. "Lily, take her pulse," he said. "On her wrist, under her thumb."

Lily did her best to follow his direction. "It's slow. I mean, I think it is. James, her lips are turning blue."

"Fuck! Even if I stop the bleeding, she's going to need blood! I don't know what else to do!"

"Blood," said Sirius, his eyes widening. He pulled his robe from where it was draped over his shoulder and dropped it before dashing to the dungeon stairs. "I'll be back as fast as I can!"

"Where are you going?" called Annabelle, afraid to let go of Zelda's hand. She convinced herself that if she held on tight enough, she wouldn't be able to slip away.

"Someone cover her with Sirius' robe," commanded James. "She's going into shock and we need to keep her warm. Lily, I've found the cut, but I need you to seal it. I don't know how to work two charms at once yet."

"Just tell me how," Lily said.

Annabelle pulled her own robe off and covered Zelda, still struggling to make sense of what had happened. She'd heard something, a whisper perhaps, coming from the stairs above. It had all happened so fast, and even now, she felt like she was floating under water while everyone else was going at high speed. Turning her eyes to the stairwell, she choked out a sob, then forced her shaking legs to stand.

"The curse," she said to herself as she peered up the staircase, "it came from…"

She looked back at the scene. Students had come out of the library and were forming a circle, watching as James and Lily fought to save a girl's life with the minimal knowledge James had gained from his internship. Zelda's skin had gone ghostly pale except for the areas glistening with crimson, and her eyelids remained still as a statue's. Madam Wigworthy popped her head out the door and shouted for the students to disperse, but when she saw the blood pooling on the stone floor, she recoiled, her face drawn in terror. One thought seized Annabelle: Zelda was dying, and the person responsible was in the castle. A desperate urge to catch the attacker wrenched her out her dream-like state, propelling her forward, and with a rush of adrenalin, she took the stairs two at a time. "I'll be back!" she called, not waiting to hear a response.

On the next floor up, several students loitered outside classrooms, oblivious to what was happening below, and she asked if they'd seen anyone pass through- someone who seemed suspicious. No one had.

If the guilty party was a Slytherin, she assumed he had fled to the stairwell at other end of the corridor, which eventually connected to the Dungeons. " _Homenum Revelio_ ," she said every ten feet or so, figuring the attacker had concealed himself somehow, but no one appeared and her frustration grew unbearable.

Once in the stairwell, she collapsed on a step, her tears falling fast. What was she thinking? Whoever had done it was long gone, and now Zelda was going to _die_. Searching the castle like some sort of vigilante was not only dangerous, but useless. She felt so weak, and her head was spinning; how she wanted to scream for someone to stop time, to make all the horror go away. With her arms crossed over her lap, she put her head down and wept so hard it hurt.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Sirius pounded on the door to Slytherin Dungeon, his skin breaking out in a sweat. "Open up!" he shouted, but thankfully, a student appeared behind him and cleared his throat.

Sirius whipped around. "I need to get inside. To see Severus Snape. It's urgent."

"You must think I'm cra-"

Sirius grabbed him by the collar, ramming him against the wall. "Let me in now," he seethed as he pressed his wand into the boy's cheek. "Or you'll be the next curse victim."

The boy, whose face was frozen in fear, scarcely nodded and stuttered, "Er-Erebus."

The door unlatched and Sirius charged inside, pulling the boy along with him. Snape was not in the common room, but several other residents got to their feet. Sirius pointed his wand at them, the boy held in his grasp like ransom. "Direct me to Snape's room. Now! Someone's life depends on it!"

"First level down," said a startled first-year, pointing to a staircase.

Sirius released his prisoner at Snape's door, and not bothering to knock, he blasted the door open with a spell. Snape looked to have been on his way out the door, books in hand for class. He leapt back, the books falling as he shrunk into a corner.

"What do you want?" he demanded as Sirius slammed the door, charming it to lock.

"Blood Replenishing Potion. I know you have some."

Severus' wand trembled in his hand. "You have no proof. What gives you the right to come in here-"

"Listen to me," warned Sirius, his wand trained on Severus. "A little girl's life depends on you giving me that potion. I know it's what you were brewing that night. Now hand it over!"

"Even if I was, what makes you think I still have it? I might have used it, or-"

"Did you _hear_ me? A girl is bleeding to death as we speak because of a spell _you_ created! Do something good for once in your life!"

"How do I know this isn't a trick?"

Sirius gripped his blood stain shirt. "DOES THIS LOOK LIKE A TRICK TO YOU?"

"That proves nothing. You could have faked it. Besides, why should I help you? You and your entire lot have demeaned me since our first day here. Would any of your housemates save me if I were bleeding to death? I highly doubt it."

"James saved your life once already."

"Only because you tried to kill me."

Sirius had to bite his tongue – the git would always blame Sirius for his own stupid decision to see Remus in his Werewolf form. He also could have argued that Severus had been equally horrible to them over the years, especially to Remus, but there was no time to waste on debating who was worse to whom when Zelda might be breathing her last breath.

"Fine," he said, his heart racing at the sounds of his arch nemeses approaching from outside. "Have it your way. But Lily is going to know that YOU are the reason a little girl died today. You and your _selfishness_. She'll know the truth about you, and she'll be ashamed to have ever called you friend."

He turned to the door, hoping against hope his threat would work, because if it didn't, he would have to duel Snivellus and ransack his room for the potion.

"Wait," said Severus. He skittered to his trunk. " _I_ will administer it to her."

"You're not as fast as me," said Sirius, his palm outstretched.

Severus hesitated, but a second later he pressed the vial into Sirius' hand. "Give her the entire dram."

"And the counterspell to Sectumsempra?"

"Vulnera Sanentur."

Sirius undid the lock and bolted from the room only to be put in a chokehold by Amycus Carrow.

"Let me go! Someone is dying!"

"Yeah, you are, traitor."

"It's all right," said Severus. "Let him go." When Amycus and Evan looked at him like he'd lost his mind, he said, "Believe me when I tell you he's not here to make trouble. Go on, release him."

Amycus dropped his arms, and Sirius ran as fast as he could, unaware that Severus was at his heels, making sure no one attacked him on his way out of the dungeon.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

" _Cry-baby, cry-baby,"_ a voice rang out, startling Annabelle.

Peeves floated through the rafters, and she shot daggers at him with her red, swollen eyes. " _Get. Stuffed_."

"Ouchie, such severe words. You sound like the other one. Nasty little lassies you are."

"I don't know what you're talking about, now please, _go away pest_!"

"She's always hiding. Swears at me when I catch her. Rude mouth she has. Just like yours."

"Who's always hiding? What in the bloody hell are you talking about?"

"Not telling."

"Lunatic," Annabelle muttered. "Go away!"

"She's hiding right now! Silly thing doesn't know I saw her. Appeared out of thin air, she did! Like a ghost!"

_"_ Who are you talking about?!" she wailed, but then the hair stood up on back of her neck, and her heart almost pounded straight out of her chest. _Could it be?_ she thought.

"Will you tell me who she is?" asked Annabelle as she hopped to her feet. "Please? Please tell me! You might save lives!"

"I can't tell you!"

"But why not?!" she yelled, her head feeling like it might explode.

Peeves smiled wide. "I can't tell you because… I don't know her name!"

"Did you see her recently?"

"Yes, I did! Watched her sneak. She's sneaky as a mouse. Thinks I can't see her, the little beastie." He cackled wildly and spun round in the air.

"Where is she? Please, I must know!"

"Why should I tell you, you insolent knave?"

"Because she hurts people and she needs to be stopped."

"Wrong!" he sang. "Try again."

"All right," said Annabelle, her eyes narrowed to slits. "Because if you don't tell me, I'll exorcise you straight to hell where you belong! Remember? I'm a Medium? I've only spared you this long because I feel _sorry_ for you!"

Peeves floated backwards, his grin fading. "Trophy Room."

Annabelle broke into a run.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

James yanked off his robe, tossing it to Lily who tucked it over the other robes covering the nearly lifeless girl. Then he put his hand over her fading pulse. They had stopped the bleeding, but if they didn't get her to St. Mungo's, in a matter of minutes it would be too late. As it was, her brain might have already been irreversibly affected.

"Lily," he croaked, "I don't know what else to do. I'm not a Healer."

She sniffled, trying to stay calm. "Dumbledore will be here soon."

"I hope so."

Madam Wigworthy had nearly fainted at the sight of the all the blood, and was helped back into the library by some spectators. Some students still hovered nearby, looking on in sympathy, while others had said they would find a professor to help. But most had run back to their dorms in fear of the attacker striking again.

Just as Remus was returning with Professor MacMillan, Sirius sprinted into the foyer from the other side.

"I've got it!" he shouted. "The potion!" He was trembling as he passed the bottle to James, nearly dropping it in the exchange. "Blood-Replenishing Potion. I got the counterspell as well. It's-"

"We stopped the bleeding." James interjected, not wanting to waste a second. He uncorked the bottle and sniffed it. "Are you sure that's what this is?"

"Yes! Remember? Snape? Trust me, it's the potion."

An understanding passed between them, and James lowered the bottle to Zelda's lips.

"Are you positive you know what you're doing?" asked MacMillan as he bent beside them. "A mistake could kill her."

"And if we do nothing, she'll likely die anyway," said James. "I'm giving it to her."

"Go on then," the professor said with an anxious nod. "The incantation _Infundibulus_ will make sure it goes down the right way." He lifted Zelda's head as James carefully poured the liquid into her mouth, using the incantation to guide the potion down her throat.

"Where the hell is Dumbledore?" demanded Sirius, then he looked around. "Where's Annabelle?"

"She said she'd be right back," said Lily. "I think she went for help."

He pushed the hair off his sweaty cheeks, looking up the staircase for any sign of her. A rush of footsteps was heard and Dumbledore charged into the space from the adjacent corridor. McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey were close behind, as well as Alice and Peter.

James began rattling off what measures he'd already taken, but Dumbledore stopped him. "Pick her up. You will explain to the healers yourself."

With a wave of his wand and a short incantation, the anti-apparition jinx was lifted. James carefully took Zelda's limp body into his arms and they disappeared with a crack. After a brief word with the headmaster, McGonagall followed. A nearby student informed Dumbledore that Madam Wigworthy had fainted, so Madam Pomfrey hurried into the library to check on her.

As all of this was going on, Sirius nudged Remus. "I need to find Annie before Dumbledore takes us in for questioning."

"Right," whispered Remus.

Since Zelda's fate was out of their hands now, Frank's advice about travelling in groups was back in effect. Remus nudged Alice, motioning for her to join them, and she edged her way to the staircase with them. Sirius knew a lockdown was coming, and he would not go back to his dorm without Annabelle. Lily's eyes questioned him, and he motioned for her go to the hospital; he knew James would need some company after what they'd been through. _Take Peter with you,_ Remus mouthed to her, knowing their friend was frightened and would feel safer at St. Mungo's than roaming the castle with a killer on the loose. She nodded discreetly, and as Dumbledore spoke vehemently with MacMillan, the three on them sneaked away.

After getting the story from Lily and Peter, Dumbledore granted permission for them to go the hospital. When they were gone, Dumbledore replaced the anti-apparition charm to stop the attacker from escaping. The last thing he did was cast a brilliant Patronus – a Phoenix – and sent it with a message to the Ministry. At last, he stormed off into the corridor from which he'd come, MacMillan by his side.

Amidst the turmoil, no one had noticed Severus Snape watching the scene play out from the entrance to the dungeon. He let out a mournful breath, and disappeared back into the shadows.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The third floor corridor was eerily empty when Annabelle reached it, she imagined because the castle was on lockdown and students had been sent back to their dormitories. For a fleeting moment, fear ripped through her, and she almost turned back, but then she recalled the blood, followed by the thump of Zelda hitting the floor. She thought of them all; Peter and Claire under the spell of dementia, Lily and James tortured, even that nutter Nixie Geist came to mind… if there was a chance she could end it, or at least catch a glimpse of the one responsible, she had to try. There was no time to seek help, as the culprit wouldn't stay in the Trophy Room all day. How she hoped this girl Peeves spoke of hadn't left already.

She needed a plan, she realised as she approached the doorway, her breath held tight in her lungs. She would attempt to disarm the girl first. It had to be Bernice Parkinson, since she was there at the time Claire was cursed, and she calmed down a bit, confident she could take her on. The only other possibilities were Mona Nott, who would present a challenge, but not an unmanageable one, and Alecto Carrow, who would be the toughest to bring down, especially if she disarmed Annabelle first. But even then, Alecto was no match for Annabelle's wandless magic skills, which were better than most in her year.

Then another thought occurred to her; what if the girl Peeves was talking about wasn't the curser at all? What if it was just someone who went to great lengths to be alone? Harming an innocent student was the last thing Annabelle wanted to do, so she would have to be extremely careful.

Pushing the door open slowly, she waited, listening for any movement. When she was ready, she got low to the ground and entered, locking the door behind her and placing a Caterwauling Charm on it, so she would be alerted in case the girl tried to escape. Then she scrambled to a display case and crouched behind it.

" _Homenum Revelio_ ," she whispered, concentrating extra hard to make up for her lack of volume. No indication of a human presence appeared, but the Trophy Room was vast and peppered with obstructions. She quietly moved to the next display and tried again. And again. By the time she reached the back of the room, she was convinced no one was there.

Standing up, she crossed to the other side of the room, doing a quick sweep on her way out. "HOMENUM REVELIO!" she shouted as she darted round a case, and as quickly as the words left her mouth, she flew to the ground, having tripped over an invisible person.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Annie!" Alice called down a narrow passage on the second floor. "Are you here?"

No answer came, not that calling out to her would do any good if she had been cursed. Most of the corridors had been cleared by prefects, and there was still no sign of her.

"Where the hell could she be?" asked Remus. "We've been to all the nearby classrooms. Why would she go any farther to find help?"

Sirius was doing everything he could to remain collected, but on the inside, he was crumbling. Whoever had cursed Zelda was still out there, and there was no reason for Annabelle to remain missing. No good reason, anyway.

They continued on, peeking their heads inside storage cupboards, hoping they wouldn't find her in one, because that would mean she had been forced inside. An occasional prefect would pass by, and they would ask if she'd been seen, but the answer was always no. Sirius felt lost without the Map; if only he knew who had it. If it was Dumbledore, he could convince him he needed it, assuming it hadn't been destroyed already.

On the ground floor, they took a peek inside the Great Hall. There was no trace of her.

"Where are you!" shouted Sirius to the rafters, panic making it hard to catch his breath. His echo was the only response.

"Maybe she returned to the library and we just missed her," said Alice. "She probably went back to the dorms to find us."

"Let's go see," suggested Remus.

"And if she's not there," said Alice, "we'll alert Dumbledore."

A lump of dread wrangled its way into Sirius' throat, and he nodded in silence, unable to meet their eyes. It felt like surrender, like it was only a matter of time before she was found lifeless in a corridor somewhere. He refused to accept it. She was in the Common Room, probably frantic over where everyone else had gone. She had to be, because the alternative would destroy him.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Annabelle rolled as she fell, dodging a petrifying spell and taking aim. " _Expelliarmus_!" she yelled, hoping her invisible attacker hadn't had time to move. A wand flew out in an arch through the air, causing the cloak to lift, and she caught a brief glimpse of legs and a torso before it concealed her assailant once more. But the girl wasn't giving up that easily and barrelled into Annabelle, knocking her down again. She felt a hand grab her own, fingers digging into hers in an attempt to pry her wand free.

"Let go!" Annabelle screamed.

She seized the Invisibility Cloak with her free hand and wrenched at it, but whoever was underneath fought to hold on. Annabelle pulled harder, climbing onto the person and smacking her several times, but the person under the cloak had a vice grip on her wand.

"Come out! I've caught you, you disgusting creature!"

A foot nailed her in the stomach and she lost her breath, but as the person escaped from beneath her, Annabelle regained control of her wand and aimed.

" _Incarcerous!"_ she shouted, relieved at the ropes which appeared, wrapping themselves round the invisible form as it attempted to flee. A body slammed to the floor, and Annabelle, holding her stomach where she'd been kicked, yanked at the invisibility cloak, freeing it from the bindings.

Teagan Travers stared back at her, her brown eyes frenzied. "I'm going to report you for attacking me!" she cried, her voice shrill as struggled to liberate herself.

"I wouldn't have attacked you if you hadn't tried to hex me! What are you _doing_ in here?"

"Did the girl die?" she asked, tears spilling down her cheeks.

"I – I don't know. Why are you here? How did you know about-"

Teagan began to sob, and the realisation hit Annabelle like a Bludger to the head.

"You couldn't have… could you?" It was so hard to believe, but Teagan didn't answer either way. All this time, it had been her. The nicest Slytherin of them all. "But – but why? Why are you doing this?"

"Please," she begged, "please don't report me! I promise, it's finished now. No one else will be cursed."

"Was it you every time? This was all you?"

Her face was fraught with distress, and she nodded meekly. "I was under orders."

"From whom?" Annabelle asked in disgust. "Your boyfriend?"

"Don't you dare accuse Evan!"

"Then explain!"

"If you report me, I won't admit it. It's my word against yours."

"And Peeves' word. He's seen you sneaking about."

She laughed through her tears. "No one will believe that loon."

"I'll give them my memory for Dumbledore's pensieve. Of you confessing everything just now."

Teagan's eyes reflected the defeat she must have been feeling inside, and more tears fell.

"You don't understand. The Dark Lord, he's got a hold on people I care about. His followers wanted to enlist me as well, but I refused. Evan didn't want me to join anyway, and I thought that was the end of it. But they got me by threatening my family, my brother, Evan… I had no choice!"

She squeezed her eyes shut and sobbed violently. Annabelle's throat caught.

"But why didn't you tell someone?"

"You don't know what you're talking about! You don't just tell someone about the Dark Lord and live. If I told, everyone I love was as good as dead, and he would still be out there! It's a no-win situation for me!"

"But you might have killed someone today!"

"I didn't want to! I never wanted any of this! That's why I used Sectumsempra, because my heart wasn't in it! The Killing Curse is so - so final, and I'd be sent to Azkaban for life if I was caught. The messenger never specified a method of killing, just that I was to get it done. Either way I'll be punished now, by the Ministry, or by _them_."

"How can you say your heart wasn't in it when you slashed someone open and she's currently bleeding to death!"

"I know you don't believe me – but as much as I wanted to complete the task, a part of me didn't want to succeed. I never wanted to take a life. Never. But this is the end. It has to be, I swear!"

"It's never the end with Voldemort and his followers, is it? They've got you where they want you. They'll continue to use you as long as you're compliant."

"No! It's finished now. They told me this would end it! If she – if she-"

"If she dies. Do you hear yourself? How would you carry on knowing you took her life away? How?"

"I don't know!" she snapped, her words strangled. "I don't know anything anymore…"

As she wept, Annabelle almost felt sorry for her. To have caught the attention of Death Eaters, to have been coerced into doing unspeakable harm to others, and to have gone against everything she knew to be right in order to keep her family safe – no wonder she'd been having panic attacks, as Esmeralda had mentioned. If she'd only told Dumbledore, he would have got her the help she needed. He would have seen to it her family was protected. But instead, she followed orders, and she fully intended to kill a person that morning. Zelda flashed in Annabelle's mind, and her sympathy was drowned by disgust.

"How did you get in over your head like this, Teagan? How?"

She shuddered and closed her eyes as she swallowed. "It started slow. I had to prove I wasn't working against the Dark Lord, so I was given the task of cursing someone. Anyone I chose. Your friend Peter, he just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. I wanted to get it over with."

"He could have hurt himself, or worse…"

"I know! I hated doing it, but I thought it was a one-off. I kept receiving tasks, though– they'd be sent by owls, a different owl each time. It was like a game for them, toying with me, a _kid_ , as punishment for refusing their leader. Words like 'again,' would be on a scrap of paper, and I had no choice but to obey. They knew if I didn't do it. Somehow they knew!"

"Maybe your housemates were involved? Maybe they were sending them!"

"They weren't." Her face had gone slack, giving nothing and no one away. "I hated to curse Claire," she went on, "but I had to act quickly when the lights went out."

"But you were the one who saved her – you cast the counterspell!"

"Because I couldn't bear to see what I'd done. I'd run when I did it to Peter, but with her it was gruesome. I hated myself for it."

"And the Cruciatus Curse?"

"A direct order. I was told to choose whomever I pleased, which was insane because I never wanted to cause such suffering to anyone! I had to convince myself James deserved it, because he'd been so rude to Evan-"

"You thought he deserved to be _tortured_? Evan was constantly instigating with James!"

"It was wrong, I know, but I had to do it. And Lily was there as well so, I thought maybe if I got them both, I'd have proven myself, and this would all end. Maybe it would finally be enough. Besides, a few moments of torturing someone seemed like a small price to pay for saving my family. The Dark Lord's followers will kill them if I don't comply – I don't doubt it for an instant!"

"Did Evan know about this?" Annabelle asked, unable to believe no one in her house knew what was happening to her, especially her dodgy boyfriend.

"He's a victim as well," she said, her eyes darting away.

"Someone must have been helping you! The Venomous Tentacula just happened to attack, requiring the administration and Madam Pomfrey to be away from the castle, right when you were about to kill someone? How convenient for _you_."

Again, Teagan ignored the accusation, which confirmed for Annabelle that someone had been helping her, someone she wanted to protect.

"Eventually," she continued, "I was told they wouldn't be satisfied until I killed someone- someone deemed unworthy by their standards."

"So you attacked a little girl? Why you twisted, _dark_ -"

"I was aiming for _you!"_

Annabelle gasped as she stared at Teagan. "Me? What did I ever do to you?"

"I felt like I was losing everything," she said, her words strained from talking while crying. "My life had become about keeping my family alive, and doing things that sickened me. Little else mattered. I was at the mercy of Voldemort!" She breathed in and out, then in a quavering whisper, she said, "Then _you_ come along and cosy up to my best friend, the only person in my house I trust, the one person besides my boyfriend who would still love me after everything I'd done. I hated you for it."

"So you were going to end my life."

"Originally, no. I was going to attack the first blood traitor or muggle-born who came out the door. Let fate decide."

" _You_ were the one attempting to murder someone, not fate!"

"I'd seen your lot going in there," Teagan continued, as though Annabelle hadn't said a word, "and I considered killing Sirius - since you were taking someone I care about, I would take someone you care about. It helped that he's a disrespectful, conceited bastard with a superiority complex."

"No he isn't! You're only repeating the lies your revolting housemates tell each other to make themselves feel good. He would never do the things you've done! In fact, he _is_ superior to _all_ of you, you rotten hag!"

"It doesn't matter," she retorted, "because you were the first one out the door, and when I saw your gloating, self-righteous face, something clicked in me. If that girl hadn't darted in front of you, it would have been you!"

"But, I've never wronged you," said Annabelle, crying now as well. "I felt sorry for you, trapped in that house with the Carrows and the rest of the extremists. And just because I'm friendly with Esmeralda doesn't mean I wanted to ruin your friendship with her. I might have befriended you as well if you hadn't been aligning yourself with Voldemort all this time!"

" _I had no choice!"_ she screamed. " _I had to do_ -"

" _Silencio_!" Annabelle shouted, and Teagan went quiet. She couldn't listen to any more excuses, it was making her feel ill. _How could this be?_ she screamed inside her head. Perhaps Teagan had done these things against her will at first, but now she was calculating and vengeful, using her jealousy as an excuse to murder. And in that moment, it occurred to Annabelle that even if by some chance Zelda survived, Voldemort had succeeded in taking a life – that of Teagan Travers.

She immobilised the weeping Slytherin, leaving her behind as she staggered to the door. She needed to find help, before someone else helped Teagan escape.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Just as Sirius, Remus, and Alice were approaching the fourth floor in their mad dash for Gryffindor, they heard the sound of screeching and howling from the floor below.

"Sounds like a Caterwauling Charm," said Sirius.

He continued up the stairs, ignoring it, because Annabelle could be anywhere, hurt, or worse, and he needed to get to her, but Alice had already jogged down to the landing, peering into the third floor corridor.

A smile spread across her face. "Annie!" she shouted.

Sirius bolted down the stairs, making it to the corridor in time to catch Annabelle as she flew into his arms. Relief washed over him, bringing tears to his eyes. She was alive.

"Oh my love, my Annie," he said, kissing her face all over. She was panting, and he took her cheeks in his hands. "Don't ever do this to me again, all right?"

"I had to try… to catch her," she said, her breathing still laboured. "She's in the trophy room."

"What do you mean?" asked Alice, her wand drawn.

"The one who's been cursing everyone…" She took a slow breath. "I've immobilised her. It's… it's… oh Merlin you're not going to believe this. It's Teagan Travers."

" _What_?" exclaimed Sirius.

"It's true. She confessed everything! Come, see for yourselves."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

As Professor McGonagall spoke to Law Enforcement Officers, Lily, James, and Peter took a seat in the Emergency waiting room. Peter picked up a magazine and fell silent, but Lily could sense the anxiety in him. She tried to get him to talk but he waved her off, pretending to be engrossed in his reading. There was only one other wizard there, a small, older man with white hair and a beard. He wore a pointed wizard's hat in grey, and kept nodding off and startling awake.

"He looks like a shrunken Dumbledore," whispered James so only Lily could hear him.

Lily couldn't muster anything beyond a weak, almost inaudible chuckle. The horror of what she'd witnessed still gripped her, and she squeezed his hand. She had arrived to find him standing in the middle of the lobby in blood-soaked clothes, staring forlornly at the doors to the trauma unit as healers and medi-witches moved about him in a whirl of activity. She'd led him to the waiting room and did her best to calm him down, but she was an utter wreck as well, inside especially.

"Maybe I could have done more," he said, "or been faster, or-"

"You did your best, James. You did what you could." His mouth turned down and his eyebrows knitted in anguish, so she pressed on. "You've only completed an internship and you were so level-headed. You remembered everything you learned! I'm so proud of you."

He seemed to contemplate her words as he stared at the floor. Finally, he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over himself.

"I tried to save a bird once," he said.

"A bird? When was this?"

"Ages ago. The summer after first year, I think it was. My parents and I were having dinner when it smacked into the dining room window. I ran outside to see if it was alive, but it wasn't moving. My dad said there was nothing to be done, but I with my limited first-year magic tried to jolt it back to life. I kept jolting it, over and over again – I don't know what I thought that was going to do- but I kept on until my dad grabbed my wand and went inside with it. I was angry at him for it, but looking back now, he probably thought I was going mad in the head over dead bird."

"Then what did you do?"

He gave a one-shouldered shrug. "Tried not to cry. Not sure why, but I didn't want to leave it alone. My mum came out a few minutes later and helped me bury it under the Witch Hazel plant in the garden. She said it was the best place for it, since it would have flowers in winter."

Lily managed a small smile, imagining gentle, patient Rosie helping her son find peace. "How sweet of her. Did you feel a bit better then?"

"Some, but I stayed out there for a while thinking about it - how it was flying moments before, not concerned with anything but where it was going, then just like that, gone. It never saw it coming, just like Zelda."

She stroked his hair, hoping he wouldn't blame himself if the news of Zelda wasn't good. "As far as we know she's still alive."

"And if she doesn't make it?" he asked.

"We'll know we did everything we could."

He stared ahead for a moment, transfixed by his thoughts. Finally, he sighed. "I don't think I'll ever come to terms with death. It's so infuriating and… _final_. Like, that's it, there's no turning back. I can't wrap my head around it."

"I don't think we're meant to understand it. Better to focus on being alive, yeah? On living well and with purpose, no matter how long or short our time might be."

He shut his eyes and nodded, then leaned over and rested his head in his hands. Lily stroked his back, aware that his sensitivity surrounding loss had become more pronounced since his mum and Fairfax died. But she had no answers for him. All she could do was hope and pray for Zelda to survive, and for this nightmare to end.

"You're going to make the most wonderful healer," she said. "I mean it. Your heart is in it, and you don't give up."

He turned his head slightly and smiled at her. "So are you, and I mean it as well."

It wasn't long before Zelda's parents arrived, dressed to the nines as though they'd been pulled away from some posh event, even though it was only midday. Looking at them, Lily was reminded of what Annabelle had told her - how Zelda and Twyla's parents had left them at Hogwarts over Christmas while they holidayed in Ibiza with friends. It seemed so cruel, and at the time, she wished she could tell the girls' parents off, but seeing Zelda's parents now, the fear on their faces, her heart went out to them. The unthinkable was happening, and their pain must have been enormous.

Professor McGonagall spoke to them, and eventually introduced them to James and Lily.

"Thank you for what you did," said Zelda's mother, tears streaking her cheeks. "I wish we could repay you somehow, even if she…" She covered her mouth, her head shaking back and forth. James' lower lip began to tremble as he looked into her eyes, so Lily took the woman's hand and responded.

"You owe us nothing – we wanted to help, just as any decent person would have done."

Soon, the Healer who had worked on their daughter wanted to speak to them, and a nurse came to escort them away. As Lily watched them go, heading toward what might be the worst news of their lives, James let out a shaky breath.

"We did everything we could," he said. "Right?"

A tear escaped Lily's eye as she answered, "We did."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The Aurors who were responsible for escorting Teagan to the Ministry had taken Alice with them as part of her training, and she would have her first experience with interrogation techniques. Sirius, Remus, and Annabelle remained in Dumbledore's office, growing more and more frustrated with the questions being asked of them. Sirius knew questioning was a necessity, but the three Aurors kept asking the same questions in different ways, as though their answers might suddenly change.

"I told you," said Annabelle, her voice strained, "I wasn't friends with her. I only knew her from class."

"And Evan Rosier?" asked the one called Scrimgeour.

"The same. I swear."

The Aurors had also wanted to question Evan, but law enforcement officers had scoured the castle and he was nowhere to be found. Further proof that he had at least some knowledge of Teagan's mission.

"We've told you several times we weren't friends with them," said Sirius. "Do you think we're lying? Because anyone will tell you we didn't get on with them."

"Right," said Frank Longbottom, the bags under his eyes making him look older than his twenty years. "Are we through here?" he asked his partners. "We have a dozen other students to question today."

He yawned and shuffled some papers, but Scrimgeour shot Sirius a doubtful look.

"Your brother is Regulus Black, yeah?" he asked.

"Yes, why?"

"Oh nothing, really, just that he's on our list of suspected Death Eaters."

Sirius narrowed his eyes. "You're lying."

"Actually, I'm not," he said casually. He seemed to be enjoying himself. "When we arrest the younger ones, they're usually so terrified it takes little coaxing to convince them to turn each other in. Let's just say… your brother's name came up. We have no proof, yet, but there you have it."

Something flared inside Sirius' chest – disbelief, or maybe it was the brutal awareness that the Auror might be telling the truth.

"You're lying!" he accused him anyway, wanting so much to be correct in his assertion. "He couldn't be! He may be a lot of rotten things, but he's no Death Eater." As Scrimgeour gave him a condescending once-over, he felt like he was going to be sick.

"It's no secret whose side your family is on, Mr. Black."

Before Sirius could fully grasp the implication behind Scrimgeour's statement, Remus angrily asked, "What is that supposed to mean?" at the same time, Annabelle snapped, "What are you trying to say? That you think Sirius was involved in this? That he's a _Death Eater_? Because you would be wrong _,_ sir. Completely wrong!"

"I am quite certain," Dumbledore intervened in a voice that commanded respect, "that Mr. Black is not associated with Voldemort or any of his followers. You would be wasting your time to question him further."

After a lull in which Scrimgeour jotted something down on a piece of parchment, he smiled thinly at Sirius. "I'd say we're done here. Thank you for your cooperation."

"Thanks guys," said Frank in a much kinder tone than his colleague's. "We'll be in touch if we have any more questions."

"May we go to St. Mungo's, sir?" Annabelle asked Dumbledore.

"I'm afraid not, as law enforcement would prefer no one else be permitted to leave at this time."

"How will we know-"

Dumbledore raised a placating hand. "I will keep you informed of any news should it arise. Now I must ask that you return to your dormitory."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Sirius jammed his hands into his pockets as they headed to Gryffindor Tower. Annabelle could see he was disturbed by the mention of Regulus, in addition to everything else that had happened that morning.

"Sirius, he might have been making it up- the stuff about Regulus - just to test you."

"Good point," agreed Remus. "They have to make sure we weren't involved."

"You mean they have to make sure _I_ wasn't involved," Sirius corrected. "Because I come from a family of deranged bigots – there's an excellent chance I'm just like them."

"Dumbledore set him straight," Annabelle said, wishing there was more she could say to comfort him. She slipped her arm through his, but he remained tense.

"If it's true, then my brother is a bigger idiot than I realised. Merlin, what could he possibly be thinking?"

"I'm so sorry, love. This is the last thing you needed to hear today."

"Bet my parents are proud of their boy, devoting his life to a lunatic." His jaw clenched as he strode on, but she didn't let go of him.

The Common Room was teeming with students when they arrived, and they immediately swarmed Remus, their prefect, for answers. He stayed behind while Sirius took Annabelle's hand and led her up the stairs to the boys' dorms.

"Someone could have seen me," she admonished him as they jogged up the stairs. "The Common Room is full of people!"

"I dare them to report us."

He led her into the room and shut the door behind them. Leaning against it, he looked at her. Exhaustion tugged at his features, and there was hurt in his eyes.

"Let's talk about why you thought it was a good idea to track the curser by yourself," he accused. "Do you know what that did to me? I thought you were _dead_." The last word was spoken in little more than a whisper, as though saying it louder would invite it in.

"I wasn't thinking clearly," she replied frailly. "Nothing felt real. It was an impulse - all I could think was I'd heard a voice – and seeing Zelda on the floor… there was so much blood…" Her voice cracked, and her eyes burned with tears. "You could've been killed yourself," she reproached him, "going to Slytherin Dungeon alone with a maniac on the loose. What were _you_ thinking?"

"I couldn't live with myself if I didn't try."

As she stared into his tired, but resolute face, Zelda's blood still speckling his cheeks, the meaning of it all dawned on her – Teagan was a Death Eater, Zelda might be dead for all they knew, and any one of them might have been next. Hogwarts was no longer off-limits to Voldemort. No sooner had she put her hands over her face to catch the onslaught of tears did Sirius step toward her, pulling her into his arms.

"Come here, Annie. Don't cry. She might have made it. The potion might have worked in time."

As he held her head firmly against his chest, she squeezed him back, her insides aching with sadness. She couldn't fight her fear as it bore its way into every cell of her being.

"I can't believe it was Teagan Travers," she said as she cried. "How many others was she protecting?"

"I don't know, but Dumbledore will weed out the rest of them, if they don't disappear like Rosier did, first."

"You were right. We can't trust anyone."

He kissed her head, then looked into her eyes. "We can trust each other," he said gently, "and our friends."

And it would have to be enough, because as much as Annabelle hated to paint all Slytherins with one broad stroke, she didn't think she'd be able to trust any of them, ever again.

 


	22. Shades of Grey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little sidenote: Someone mentioned to me that the name "Eric Jaeger" reminded them of a character's name in something called Shingeki. Honestly, I have never heard of Shingeki and had to Google it, and in case anyone was wondering, I didn't get that name from anywhere but my own head. (I have never read any Manga in all my days.)
> 
> Enjoy the chapter! :)

The lockdown was lifted at about two in the afternoon, and Remus immediately went with Johnny B. to Ravenclaw Tower. He would have gone sooner, but law enforcement officers were still searching the castle, and anyone caught defying orders would be punished by the Ministry, or so they had been told. He didn't really believe it, but since the culprit had been hiding in the Trophy Room, Remus wasn't as concerned about Claire's safety so much as her mental state. She must have been worried sick – most students had no way of knowing what was going on, and what the imagination came up with was often worse than reality.

A girl answered the door to the tower and Remus asked if she would tell Claire he was there. She agreed, and while they waited, Johnny B. said, "Matthew comes home next week."

"I thought you convinced him to go to Spain."

"I did. He's coming home next week."

"Well that was a short trip."

"He wants to come home."

"Great, then. June will be here before you know it, and you'll see him again."

"Right," he said with a nod. "June."

Remus lowered his brow. "You can't honestly be thinking of sneaking out. Not after everything that's happened."

"Actually, the thought did cross my mind."

"Johnny…"

"What? How is it any more dangerous to sneak out now than it was a few months ago? And I didn't say I was going for sure. It was just a thought."

The door opened and Claire stepped out. Her hands covered her mouth as she said, "I heard a girl was… was… _killed_?"

"Not quite," said Remus. "She was alive when she was brought to St. Mungo's." _Barely_ , he thought, but he didn't want to mention it. No point in getting her upset until James and Lily returned with more news.

"It's only getting worse. Who is doing this?"

"There's something we do know. I'll explain everything on the way to Gryffindor."

Claire was dumbfounded by the time they reached the Portrait. "I can't believe it," she said. "She was the last person I would have suspected. When I was cursed, she was the one who stopped it, and I actually thanked her afterwards."

"We were all shocked," said Johnny B.

They entered to find Sirius and Annabelle on the sofa, freshly showered and changed into clean clothing. Annabelle's head was resting on Sirius' lap, but she sat up to make room for everyone. As they settled in, Caradoc came downstairs and plunked himself in the armchair opposite Johnny B.

"Hear anything yet?" he asked.

"Nothing," said Remus.

"Teagan Travers," said Caradoc, shaking his head. "She had everyone goin'. Feckin' nutcase."

"I feel bad for her," Johnny B. confessed.

"What the hell for?" asked Caradoc. "She might've murdered someone!"

"She _intended_ to murder someone," corrected Sirius, also eyeing Johnny B. in disbelief.

"I know that," he said. "I'm not saying I support her actions. But she must have gone mental, and to think what's she got herself into now? We're talking about Azkaban, where witches and wizards go to die."

"She must be terrified," said Annabelle.

Sirius scowled. "Just like James, Lily, Peter, and Claire were when she cursed them, and like we all were when she slashed Zelda open."

"Of course," said Annabelle, cringing at the still fresh memory of blood everywhere. "There will be consequences for what she did, and rightfully so. She was so sad though, like she was aware life as she knew it was over."

Sirius had a different theory. "Perhaps her whole sob story was a performance in the hopes you would let her go and she could run off with her sleazy boyfriend. She was playing on your sympathies."

Annabelle hadn't thought of that, and while she agreed that Teagan might have been hoping Annabelle would allow her to escape, she didn't think the tears or the awful story about the threats to her family were an act. But Sirius was growing frustrated with any talk that painted Teagan in a sympathetic light, so she attempted to end the discussion.

"Anything's possible I reckon," she offered, and no one said another word about Teagan's sincerity, or lack thereof.

Twyla entered the room from the girls' staircase, and when she saw all the seats by the fire taken, she almost turned away, but Annabelle motioned for her, and she squeezed in between her and Claire. There was a handkerchief balled in her pudgy hand, and her cheeks were bright pink from crying. Aside from a few third-year girls at a nearby study table, the common room had cleared out considerably when the lockdown was lifted. Afternoon sunshine poured through the windows, unaware of their distress. Outside, the atmosphere was almost celebratory as word spread that the curser had been caught, though most didn't know who it was, yet. Students could be seen roaming the grounds and flying about on broomsticks, taking advantage of the Springy weather.

Annabelle put an arm round Twyla's shoulders, but didn't know what to say to make her feel better. She couldn't console anyone when she herself could not be consoled. Several minutes later, Ingrid Cooper burst into the room with her lemmings, crying in a melodramatic fashion and making a big show of being devastated.

"Oh my god," she wailed, "poor, dear Zelda. I can't believe a friend of mine might die! It's so unfair!"

Her friends patted her back, wearing their saddest faces, and Twyla, whose tears were genuine, looked to Annabelle in dismay. But Annabelle didn't notice her silent plea for help, because she was already glaring at Ingrid.

"Stop trying to get attention for yourself," she scolded. "You're not fooling anyone."

Ingrid pulled an affronted expression. "Leave me alone. You don't know what I'm going through right now."

"Oh _please_ tell us what you're going through," mocked Annabelle. "You've been nothing but rotten to her all year long. Why so emotional now?"

Twyla seemed pleased with Annabelle's bluntness, but Ingrid sneered back, "You really should mind your own business!"

Annabelle's eyes nearly popped out of her head with rage and she sprang from the sofa. "So should you, you little busy body! Stop trying to gain sympathy at the expense of someone you treated like rubbish!"

"I can still be worried about her!"

"You should be worried about how _nasty_ you've been to her, and how guilty you'll feel if she doesn't make it!"

By now, Sirius had stood up as well, and placed a hand on her back. "Annie," he said softly.

She whipped round to face him as Ingrid Cooper tore for the girls' staircase, bawling like a baby at being told off. Johnny B., Remus, and Claire had gone rigid, exchanging looks of concern, but Twyla smiled subtlety to herself though her tears.

"What?" Annabelle demanded of him.

"I think you need to rest."

"No. I'm fine."

"You're shaking, Annie. Come, let's wait for them upstairs. Do you want to get your cloak this time?"

She frowned as she looked about the room, but the few students present besides her friends were not the tattle-tale types, and frankly, most students would be too intimidated to tell on them.

Sirius waited patiently, and when she responded with a short, tense shake of her head, he led her up the stairs again.

She collapsed on his bed, her face pressed into his pillow as she fought the urge to cry. The world around her was so full of wretched, selfish people who couldn't see beyond themselves – who didn't care about anything but their own gain. Screaming might have helped, but she felt so weak, like uttering even the smallest word would be a feat in itself.

Sirius closed the door and pulled off her shoes, setting them on the floor by his trunk. He tugged his quilt out from under her, covering them both as he cozied up next to her. His hand met her head, his fingers rubbing her scalp. She sighed at his tenderness, and a whisper of a sob escaped her.

"Close your eyes," he instructed, and she did. He wiped the tears from her cheeks, and then draped his arm across her back, where it stayed, solid and protective. Her urge to weep diminished some as he kissed her forehead several times, and before long, she found refuge in a murky half-sleep that reached out to her, but wouldn't take hold. Soon, she found herself wide awake again, her head throbbing, and her heart still sore.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Lily and James returned an over hour later, and after sharing the news of Zelda with their friends in the common room, they went upstairs to tell Sirius and Annabelle. They found them seated on the bed, Annabelle's head on Sirius' shoulder as he absently flipped through an old Quidditch magazine. Their heads shot up when they entered the room, and Lily flinched slightly at the hope on their faces.

"She's alive," she said.

Annabelle leapt from the bed. "She is?"

Sirius had dropped his magazine and leaned back in relief, his hands on his forehead.

"Yes," said Lily. "But she's still unconscious. The Healer called it a coma."

"They're trying different spells to bring her out of it," said James, "but so far, nothing's worked."

Annabelle's smile faded and she sat back down on the bed. "So, what does that mean?"

"It means they don't know much more than we knew earlier," he said. "We'll have to wait and see." He followed Lily to his bed and they sat down next to each other. "I wish it was better news."

"At least she's alive," said Sirius. "That's promising, yeah?"

"I'd say so," replied Lily.

For a moment, no one spoke, as each of them relived the days' events in their minds. Then Sirius' eyes lit up.

"Did you hear?" he asked.

"Hear what?" said James.

"The curser was caught." James' jaw dropped, but Sirius held up a hand. "Wait, it gets better. Annie's the one who caught her."

"Wha-?" said James. "You're joking, right?"

Lily stared at Annabelle in disbelief. "You did?"

"She didn't put up much of a fight," said Annabelle.

"Don't be so modest," said Sirius with a sly grin. "You annihilated her."

"Hold on, you went after the curser yourself?" asked Lily. "Who was it?"

"Teagan Travers."

Lily gasped and James' mouth dropped open for the second time.

"How?" asked Lily. "Are you sure it was her?"

"Positive. She had help of course – likely her boyfriend, but she wouldn't admit it."

With a rueful chuckle, James shook his head. "What the hell is going on round here? _Teagan Travers_?"

"She was hiding in the Trophy Room. Peeves pointed me in the right direction."

"Annie," said Lily, "I don't know whether you're really brave or utterly mad!"

"Probably a bit of both," she replied.

"You're _a lot_ brave," said Sirius, running his thumb over her cheek. "And only a tiny bit mad."

She smiled bashfully at him, but didn't disagree.

"How on earth did someone like Teagan Travers get involved with Voldemort?" asked Lily.

"Apparently Evan was already involved, and when she refused to follow, they made her join."

" _Made_ her?" repeated James. "How?"

"She said some anonymous Death Eaters told her if she didn't do these things they would have her family killed. Something about proving her loyalty."

Lily gasped again. "Oh, the poor thing!"

"Hold on," said Sirius. "Hear the rest before you start feeling sorry for her."

After hearing the entire story, including what Teagan had told Annabelle about her first choice of murder victims, James' jaw was set, and Lily had tears in her eyes.

"It might have been one of you," she said. "If she'd had her way it would have been."

"Unbelievable," James mumbled, clenching the quilt on his bed where he and Lily sat.

"And now Zelda is paying the price for their scheming, disgusting _hatred_ ," spat Lily.

"But she's still got a chance because of you lot," said Annabelle, her eyes moving between them. "You saved her life. Voldemort didn't win this time, because of you."

"I couldn't have done anything without James' help," said Lily. "He was amazing."

"And I couldn't have done a thing without Lily. Or Sirius and that potion."

"I didn't do anything," Sirius said, "except remember what Snivellus had brewed."

"You were the one who figured out what he was brewing in the first place," said Annabelle.

"And without that potion, she wouldn't have made it," affirmed James.

Annabelle smiled and squeezed Sirius' hand. "Goodness, I have the most brilliant friends."

The others smiled as well, no longer downplaying their roles in keeping Zelda alive.

"You know, I think I should thank Severus," said Lily. "He did a good thing in giving Sirius that potion. He helped save her as well."

Sirius snorted a derisive laugh. "He wasn't going to give it to me at all, Lil. Not until I threatened to tell you what a selfish shit he is."

Lily was taken aback. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying he refused to give it to me at first, whinging about how we're so mean to him, and why should he help us? So I told him I'd tell you."

"Why am I not surprised," said James, his voice laced with disgust. "He only did it so you wouldn't know what a slimeball he is. He did it for you, not Zelda."

It was the first time Annabelle had heard this incriminating detail. "He refused to help until you threatened to tell Lily?"

"Yep," said Sirius. "You got it. But by all means, let's thank him."

"Thank him for being obsessed with my girlfriend," James muttered. "Creep."

Lily shivered, the truth of their words cold and nauseating. Part of her was angry at them for speaking so flagrantly about Severus' intentions, but another part of her feared they were right. To think, if her opinion of him hadn't been a factor, he might have let someone die over a boyhood grudge. Yet she fell into her old habit of defending him, because if she admitted that he was self-serving and cruel, then she would also have to admit he had changed beyond recognition. It didn't seem possible, and she didn't want to believe it. She didn't want to be the reason he gave Sirius the potion.

"But he must have thought you were lying to him," she contended. "That you were setting him up. Not that you would, but you don't have the most amicable history with each other."

"Then why did he hand over the potion as soon as I mentioned your name?" challenged Sirius. "I'll tell you why. He knew I wasn't lying, but he loved having the upper hand. Saving a life was the least of his concerns until your opinion of him entered the picture. He probably brewed that potion for one of his fellow Death Eaters in case they got hurt or something, though he'll never admit it."

"Now, Sirius," said Lily in a trembling voice. "Just because Teagan is involved with Voldemort doesn't mean Severus is. He's not the nicest chap, but he's not evil."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yes, I am. He did the right thing in the end, even if it wasn't for the right reasons."

"Do you hear yourself, Lil?" asked James. "If it wasn't for the right reasons, then that means he wouldn't have done it if the circumstances were different. He _wouldn't_ have done the right thing."

"I get it, all right?" she snapped, feeling cornered. "He's selfish, and – and lost. I've known that for quite some time. But I still have to acknowledge what he did. I want him know it's appreciated, that his choice to help is appreciated. Maybe that will encourage him to make the right choice again!"

James blew out a frustrated breath. "Fine, if you want to thank the snake, that's your business. I'm not about to stop you."

"You're not going alone," said Annabelle. "Alice and I will go with you."

"Maybe we should all go," offered James. "In case his mates get any ideas."

Lily rolled her eyes. "Oh I'm sure that will go over brilliantly. Forget it. I'll just write him a note."

James looked to the floor and wearily rubbed at his forehead. Lily's heart throbbed; she hadn't meant to hurt him.

Turning to Sirius and Annabelle, she asked, "Can you give us a few minutes?"

"Sure," said Sirius, rising from his bed with Annabelle. "No problem."

As they walked to the door, Annabelle gave Lily a sympathetic half-smile. Lily returned the sentiment, and when the door closed, she inched closer to James.

"Sweetheart, I know Severus is misguided, and absolutely cruel at times, but I can't ignore what he did, either."

"When are you going to stop with him?" James responded quietly, not looking up.

Lily drew back. "Stop what?"

"Concerning yourself with him. Caring about his feelings."

She fumbled for words. "Well… I'm not concerning myself... Look, we may not be mates anymore, but I don't want to hurt his feelings either. I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings."

James dropped his hand from his forehead and met her eyes. "Does he care about the feelings of any of your friends? Did he care about Annabelle's feelings fourth year when he called her a manky bitch in front of the entire class?"

"No, but you weren't exactly friendly with Annabelle during fourth year, either. It was a long time ago."

"Fine, but I'm friends with her now and he still hates her as much as he did then, so there's no comparison really. What about Remus? Did he care about his feelings when he was trying to out him as a Werewolf, knowing full well it could ruin his life?"

"But he's kept it a secret for years."

"Only because Dumbledore got to him first! What about Sirius and Annabelle's feelings when he brewed Polyjuice Potion for those psychos?"

"We still don't have proof he knew what it was for."

"Oh come on, Lily! Do you really need proof?"

"I know, James, but-"

"Did he care about you when he called you a Mud- a Mud-" He swiped a hand over his mouth, unable to say the word, and Lily froze. The memory of her once dear friend and that hideous word flying out of his mouth still had the power to cut her to the quick. At the time, it had felt like a knife in her chest.

"Perhaps not, but he told me he didn't mean it. He apologised."

"Stop making excuses for him! Merlin, Lily! You're not even friends with him anymore!" He stared at her as she lowered her head, her face distraught, and his breath caught in his throat. "I'm sorry, Lil. I didn't mean to shout at you."

"You don't understand," she said in a wavering voice. "You've never lost a friend in this way – to this darkness that's taking over. You don't know how hard it is to see a person change before your eyes, and you can't stop them, no matter what you say or do."

"Darling," James said as he took her hands. "You have to let go of the past. Maybe he had a drop of decency in him when you were mates, but you know what he's like now. You can't honestly tell me you wish you were still friends someone like that. I mean, is that what you want? To be friends with him again?"

"No," she said with a shudder. "Not at all. He's a stranger to me now. I just want all this darkness to go away. I want to walk through the castle without the fear of being cursed. I want people to do the right thing without expecting anything in return, and for the _right_ reasons." She burst into tears. "I hate to think he only helped her because of _me_! I hate it!"

"Come here, love," said James as he guided her legs over his lap and embraced her. She rested her head in the crook of his neck and he said in a gentler voice, "I want the same things you do, but not everyone does – and that's the problem. He's part of the problem, don't you see?"

"Yes, I do. He's not the same person I was friends with, or maybe he is and I never saw it? Either way, I certainly don't want him back in my life, but I don't think it could hurt to say thank you. If feeling appreciated encourages him make a single good decision in the future, it will have been worth it."

"I don't know what it's like to lose a friendship," James said as he stroked her hair, "but I can imagine it would feel awful. This obsession he has with you, though, – it's not right, Lil. He'd probably lock you in a tower like Rapunzel if he could get away with it."

Lily raised an eyebrow. "Now you're exaggerating."

"He stares at you constantly. He hates all of your friends – even the ones who've done nothing to him."

"All right, I see what you're saying. But it's not like he's actively pursuing me. He barely acknowledges me anymore, except for an occasional nod of the head in passing."

"Because he knows I'd kick his arse seven ways 'til Sunday."

"James…"

"Listen," he said as he grew frustrated again, "please don't think I want to control your friendships, because I don't – it's not that. But I don't trust him."

Deep down, she knew his instincts were correct, and for the sake of their relationship, she finally admitted it.

"All right. Yes, I know he wanted more from me, that he had… _feelings_ for me. But I could never see him that way – his feelings were never returned. You know that, don't you?"

"Sure I do. Not that I would love you less if you did have _feelings_ for him, in the past of course." He wrinkled his nose, and Lily nudged him with her elbow. "What?"

"Be nice."

"Fine. But you're better off without him," he added cautiously. "And I'm not saying that as your boyfriend. I'm saying it as a friend."

"You seem to think I'm naïve, but I actually agree with you, I promise. Besides," she said, giving his wild hair a tussle, "I could never be friends with someone who hated you. It wouldn't feel right. But saying thanks isn't an invitation into my life, it's not a request for reconciliation. It's just better to be kind, isn't it?"

She looked into his damp eyes. His glasses were crooked, and she almost laughed, but then he straightened them, and exhaled sadly. Her heart clenched again, and she rubbed her forehead against his cheek.

"Yes," he said. "It is better to be kind. You're absolutely correct. Just don't be too disappointed when he carries on with his creepy ways."

She threw her arms round his neck and hugged him. "Thank you for understanding."

"It's the least I can do."

"You know what else you can do?"

"What's that?"

"Trust me when I say I won't let anyone come between us."

He kissed her softly, and despite her relief that their heated discussion had been resolved, her skin still crawled at the thought of being Severus' sole motivation for helping to save a life. Burying her face in James' neck, she let him hold her, reminding herself that it wouldn't be long before they were on their own, and the hurt over broken friendships would fade into the distance as daily life in London with him and her friends took over. There was so much to look forward to, and she would hang onto the idea of a future without Voldemort, one in which no one was lost to the darkness, and life would be what it should be – a grand adventure, with James… and eventually their children… at the centre of it.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Sirius and Annabelle sat on the landing outside the Common Room, their nerves still reeling. Hours had gone by, and the day had carried on, but there was no quick remedy for the fear awakened in them by the morning's tragic event. Sirius was quiet, and as much as he tried to play it cool, his tense posture revealed the apprehension contained within. He was as shocked and frightened as the rest of them, and Annabelle wished he would give up the struggle to be strong all the time.

"I know what Johnny B. meant when he said he felt sorry for her," she offered. "As despicable as she is, I sort of pity her as well, and pitying her makes her less intimidating. Like we don't have to be as afraid if we see these people for what they are – lost and tormented."

"Sure. If you say so."

"Well, she can't be happy, can she? I certainly wouldn't want to be in her shoes."

"And you would never be in her shoes, because you wouldn't be associating with the Rosiers and Carrows, and you would tell Dumbledore, or Frank, or even Marlene if Death Eaters threatened you. Gavin warned her, as I'm sure her entire family did, but she chose not to listen."

"She didn't want to see the truth."

"Or she's in with them and was only sorry to get caught."

"We may never know. Either way, she'll suffer the consequences."

"And so she should."

He wasn't giving an inch, and she wanted to reassure him, but he was so angry he couldn't see the subtle shades of grey in the situation.

"Sirius, just because I feel sorry for her, doesn't mean I excuse her actions. It's horrible, what's she's done."

His words were uneven as he tried to stay calm. "And what she almost did to you."

"And you."

"She should have hit me instead."

"Then you'd have died," said Annabelle, her eyes burning with tears. "You were the one who remembered the potion. You couldn't have got it if you were unconscious on the ground."

"Zelda's just a kid, though."

"So are you! We all are! Merlin, Sirius, you're seventeen, not one hundred and seven! Listen to me, please," she said, "we can't torture ourselves like this – what's done is done, and it would have been wrong, and – and – _tragic_ no matter what. All we can do is hope for the best now."

"You're right. But Annie, I can't help it." He pressed the heel of his palm to his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut. His chin began to tremble, but he clenched his jaw until it stopped. "I was relieved when I realised it wasn't you. Not that I was glad it was Zelda, but for a moment I thought it was your blood I was wearing."

"It's all right, Sirius. You're allowed to be relieved I was safe without being glad someone else was harmed. You didn't want _anyone_ to be cursed."

"I didn't even know what was happening. All I knew was when I heard your voice, I could breathe again. Everything else was a blur."

Annabelle slid her arm through his and took his hand. "You were so brave. What an amazing thing you did."

"You were especially amazing."

"Nah, I only caught a witch hiding in the Trophy Room. What you lot did saved a life."

"And you may have as well. No telling what she would have done next, or who she would've attacked."

Despite the awful subject matter, Annabelle grinned, loving the way they always one-upped each other in the flattery department.

"You're the best," she said.

"No, you're the best."

He smiled down at her as she giggled, both of them beguiled at how even after a terrible, gruesome day, they could still lift each other's spirits.

"I think I'll sleep with you tonight," she said matter-of-factly. "If that's all right."

"No, it's not all right," he teased. "Bed's too crowded with you in it. Merlin, Annie, in what universe would it not be all right?"

She smiled softly, running her fingers along a strand of his silken hair. "Silly me. I'll be sure to hog the blankets then."

"And I won't complain. Not much anyway."

She slipped her arms under his and held him, her heart swelling as he hugged her tight. He was selfless and brave, venturing into the dungeons alone with a maniac on the loose, confronting his enemies, and demanding a potion he learned of through his own intuition and research. _And he loves me,_ she thought. _This incredible being loves me_. The sound of his heartbeat soothed her, and she closed her eyes, feeling invincible when she was in his strong arms.

"You really are a Gryffindor," she told him. "The Sorting Hat never got it so right."

It was the greatest compliment of all to Sirius, as a small part of him had always doubted the Hat's reliability, despite how sure it had been of his placement. Time and time again he wondered if he really belonged with his friends, or if he was an imposter, or an accident. Generations of Slytherins, and there he was in Gryffindor – how was it possible, he'd asked himself a million times. Of course, he eventually stopped dwelling on it and came to accept that he was different from his family, but the question was always there in the back of his mind, waiting to surface, particularly when he was having a bad day, and the memories of the past weighed on him as though they'd happened yesterday.

"You're quite the Gryffindor yourself," he said, not that he ever had any doubt about her placement. "And Zelda is going to make it. I know it. She's tough and she'll fight her way back."

"Yes. She will. She's a Gryffindor as well."

"That's the right attitude. Think positively, as Rosie always said."

She brought her lips to his cheek, kissing him gently before brushing her forehead against his jawline. He placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face to his.

"Please, stay alive," he requested, a pleading look in his eyes. "For me."

"I will if you will."

"It's a deal, then. Let's shake on it."

She giggled as they shook hands in a business-like fashion. "I'm going to hold you to it, Padfoot."

As she smiled at him, he wanted so badly to believe in their deal, to stare death in the face and say, no, I won't go with you - I have a promise to keep. Annabelle was stronger than she knew, and braver, and as unnerved as he was by her rash decision to chase down the curser, he was proud of her as well. She had faced a would-be murderer and lived to tell the tale. Still, a dark wizard set on destroying a broad swath of the magical world was gathering strength in numbers by the day. If he wasn't stopped, they would soon find themselves outrunning death, and a time might come when they would stumble or fall. The very idea of existing without her, or leaving her behind made him dizzy with despair.

"What are you thinking?" she asked, running her fingers over his brow.

He took her hand and kissed it, momentarily transfixed by the way her eyes sparkled in the torchlight. Her skin was flushed and warm.

"Just that I love you." He took a shaky breath. "And I want to keep you. Forever."

She reached her arms round his neck, pulling him close. "Then forever yours I'll be." Her arms still held him as she kissed his cheek, then his lips, leaving a soft peck there before nuzzling her head against his aching heart. He pressed his face into hair, inhaling the intoxicating scent of her, and closed his eyes. A lump rose in his throat and he swallowed it back, but despite scolding himself to remain in control, a few rebellious tears fell into her hair.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Classes resumed the next day, and Annabelle noticed Esmeralda had no makeup on, which was rather odd for her. Her eyes were puffy, and she stared ahead, looking at no one including the professor. The turmoil in Slytherin House would have reached a fever pitch over Teagan's arrest and Evan's disappearance, but Annabelle knew there was more to it than that, for Esmeralda anyway. She had lost another friend to the darkness. A best friend.

Annabelle wanted to reach out to the despondent girl, but at the same time, she feared her response; Annabelle was the reason her best friend might be heading to Azkaban. So she said nothing, promising herself she would try to speak to her in a few days' time, when she had a better idea of where they stood with each other. Surprisingly, it was only Evan's mates that sent her intimidating glares, obviously blaming her for their friends' troubles. The majority of Slytherin seemed just as relieved as the rest of the school that the curser was captured.

At two o'clock when their weekly Advanced Potions Lab ended, they climbed the stairs to the seventh floor and went straight to McGonagall's office.

"Any news of Zelda?" asked Annabelle when she answered the door.

"Why yes, apparently she opened her eyes." Annabelle and Lily squealed in delight, but McGonagall wasn't finished. "She closed them again almost immediately, and as far as I've heard, she hasn't awakened since."

"But, if she opened her eyes that means she's no longer in a coma, yeah?" asked James.

"In this case, you are correct. She's apparently having a nap."

"Can we go see her?" pleaded Annabelle.

The professor glanced at each of them sternly, considering the request. "Well, I suppose it would be all right. But I will be joining you. Come back in a half hour, as I have a few tasks to finish first."

"Should we see if Twyla wants to come along?" asked Lily.

"I'm afraid she's still underage, so I can't allow it without written permission from her parents. But you may inform her that the prognosis is very good, and not to worry herself."

Annabelle forgot there were rules about leaving the castle, since she hadn't adhered to them for some time. But from what Professor McGonagall had told them, she gathered that Zelda was out of the woods, and would likely be back at school soon.

When they arrived via the Floo at St. Mungo's, Annabelle got a gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach. The last time she was there was one of the worst nights of her life, so she could only imagine how Sirius felt about being there again. She took his hand, and he sent her a small, reassuring smile. McGonagall left them to consult with a receptionist, who in turn consulted with a nearby Medi-witch.

When she returned, she said, "Good news – she's awake. Her parents have gone, so you may visit her two at a time."

"Annie and Sirius should go first," said Lily. "They know her better."

Annabelle wasn't about to disagree, as she was anxious to see her young friend. The medi-witch led them to her room, and when they reached the doorway, Zelda's pale face turned toward them. With some effort, she smiled, her eyes showing how pleased she was to see them.

"Frostine!" exclaimed Sirius. "How are ya?"

"Fine," she said, grinning.

Annabelle was so relieved to see her alive she didn't know whether to laugh or cry. She settled on both as she wrapped Zelda in a hug.

"You had us terrified for a bit," she told her.

"But we knew you'd come through it," added Sirius.

"I-can't-breathe," Zelda grunted, and Annabelle released her.

"Oh I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to squeeze you so hard. I'm just thrilled to see you with your eyes open."

"It's all right," she said, her smile widening as Sirius gave her shorter and gentler hug.

They sat down in chairs beside her bed, and Zelda smiled back at them, her black hair a matted mess against the pillow. Her skin was ashen and dark circles hung from her eyes. Every time she blinked, her overgrown fringe moved with her eyelashes, and Annabelle was reminded of a small child, much younger than twelve. She was a wisp of thing, and it amazed her she'd survived at all.

"So how are they treating you in here?" asked Sirius. "Well I hope."

"They're going to bring me raspberry jelly in a bit. And some tea," she said, looking guiltily at Annabelle. "But I'll be sure not to clink the spoon against the cup."

"Ah, Zelda, you have my permission to clink all you want."

Zelda smiled again, her gaze set upon them like she was looking at two superheroes.

"Thank you," she said softly.

"For?" asked Annabelle.

"My parents told me everything about how you all saved me and caught the girl who did it. The Healer said I'm lucky to still be here."

Annabelle smoothed her hair, though it did little to tame it. "And we're lucky to have you here."

"Even though I annoy you?"

Annabelle froze at the question, and Sirius, sensing her dismay, quickly answered for her in an attempt to steer the conversation into more positive territory.

"Sure," he said with a chuckle. "You're like a little sister to us. Annoying or not, at the end of the day, we prefer you alive."

Zelda stuck her tongue out at him, but a moment later she giggled, any trace of sadness gone from her dark eyes. She seemed delighted to be cast as the annoying little sister, perhaps because it meant she was a part of their small, tightly-knit tribe, one that had been there for her when her own family hadn't. She began chattering about her Healer – she was apparently as big a fan of ABBA as Zelda was – and a lightness filled Annabelle's chest. She would not be attending another funeral after all.

They kept her company a while longer, and eventually gave her a letter from Twyla, which turned out to be a get-well card signed by everyone in her year, except for Brogan Travers, who had been brought home as soon as his parents learned the news of their daughter.

"He'll probably hate me, now," said Zelda.

"Why would he?" asked Annabelle.

Zelda pouted. "Because I'm the reason his sister is in massive trouble."

"Hold on," said Sirius. "You are _not_ the reason for her troubles, and if anyone gives you any grief – including Brogan – you come to us, and we'll straighten them out right quick."

"Exactly," agreed Annabelle. "He has no reason to hate you. He might hate me for catching her, but I can't say I'm sorry I did."

Zelda nodded, satisfied with their response, and soon, Annabelle and Sirius left so Lily and James could visit with her.

As they made themselves comfortable in the waiting room, there was no concealing the shift in their moods. Annabelle shot him a coy look.

"What?" he asked.

"You always get her to smile. No matter what."

"I know, I know. I'm a charmer."

"Yes, but it's more than that. You meant what you said about her being like a little sister, didn't you?"

"Eh, she grew on me."

Annabelle was delighted – he was opening his heart to others, little by little, and one word resounded in her head: family. A family they had inadvertently made for themselves. She made a mental note to add Zelda to Sirius' tree.

"See? Under that cool exterior, you really are just a cuddly crumpet."

Sirius choked out a laugh. "I think I prefer charmer, if you please."

She was feeling giddy, and gave his cheek his a harmless pinch. "I want to eat you up," she said.

He laughed as he stared back her, pretending to be afraid. "What's got into you?"

"I don't know, but I suddenly feel like frolicking through a meadow, or chasing a Snitch, or…" She lowered her head and batted her eyelashes at him, her forefinger between her teeth.

His eyebrows shot up. "What are you suggesting Miss O'Neill?"

She eyed him demurely, her hand moving to his inner thigh. "Well if you can't figure it out, then there's not much hope for you, is there?"

He shifted forward in his seat, pushing his hair behind his ears as he did. Then he looked at her from the corner of his eye.

"You'd better stop it, you, or when McGonagall comes back, she's going to see my trousers pointing at her."

Annabelle covered her mouth, sliding down in her chair in fit of giggles. Sirius peeked back at her and laughed when he met her watery eyes.

"I don't know why I'm laughing so hard," she practically cried. "But when you said that, I pictured the whole thing, and the look on her face…"

"Talk about awkward."

There was a breathless pause, and when they made eye contact, they were both gone, overcome by the blissful agony of uncontrollable laughter. There was no point in fighting it, because for all the darkness in the world, there were some things which would always be funny. And with Zelda's recovery and end to the cursings, at least the ones at Hogwarts, Annabelle realised there were still things worth celebrating. Life itself, even with its sorrow, was such a gift, and worth at the very least a smile.

 


	23. Spring Fever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those of you who have been reviewing! Without your encouraging feedback, I doubt I would have made it this far.
> 
> There’s a running theme in the fluff of this chapter; hope you can figure it out. :)
> 
> By the way, it’s a long chapter. Hope that makes up for how long it took me to post it! Forgive any typos you stumble across, the stress of editing this one was enough to make me want to quit writing altogether. (But clearly I didn’t!)
> 
> Carrie xx

A few days later, Zelda returned to school. Her housemates welcomed her back as though she was a celebrity, except for Ingrid Cooper, who wasn't keen on being edged out of the spotlight. But there was nothing Ingrid could do about it except sulk, because as mouthy as she was, she wasn't bold enough to rile Annabelle again.

The weather had also taken a turn for the better; sunny days were now competing with the rainy ones, and the boys were on the pitch as much as preparing for N.E.W.T.s allowed them to be. The air was cool but invigorating, and they would return to the castle with their cheeks ablaze and their hair tousled by the wind. Sometimes Annabelle joined them for a match, but most of the time she stayed in the stands with Lily and Alice, or in the library, revising for N.E.W.T.s.

Esmeralda hadn't said a word to Annabelle since Teagan was caught, and every time Annabelle saw her, she felt compelled to speak to her, but she couldn't. What if Esmeralda had known what Teagan was doing and was protecting her? Or if she hadn't known, how could she remain amicable with the person who turned in her best friend? It wasn't like she and Annabelle had been close, but they had been on good terms. Now Esmeralda wouldn't even look at her. So Annabelle, feeling very cowardly, said nothing.

"Do you think she hates me now?" she asked Sirius one day as they walked to Potions together.

"If she does, she's as bad as the rest of them."

"But Teagan was her best friend. Her judgement might be a bit clouded."

"Her best friend tried to kill you, Annie. She might not like that she's gone, but if she has an ounce of sanity in her, she can't fault you for what you did."

"Do you think I should speak to her?"

"You're asking the wrong person. I'd be perfectly content if you never spoke to Teagan Travers' best mate, or any Slytherin for that matter, ever again. What happened to not trusting those reptiles?"

At least he could admit he was biased against Slytherins in general, and she wasn't in the mood to try to change his mind, especially since his bias had less to do with Teagan and more to do with his entire family having been in Slytherin house, including his abusive parents, and weak-willed, dismissive brother. And as always, there was the chance he was right – if Teagan could carry out such savage acts, so could anyone.

"I sort of know her," said Annabelle, "so I can't really include her on my untrustworthy list."

"Maybe _she_ should approach _you_. She could reach out, assure you she didn't know what her mate was up to, yeah?"

"You're right."

And again, she decided not to speak to Esmeralda.

"I did it!" James' voice boomed from behind them. Sirius and Annabelle turned round to see him smiling proudly as he bounded over to them, with Lily by his side. "I cast a Patronus! _Twice!_ "

"Congratulations," said Annabelle, high fiving him. She was not at all surprised that he'd done it. "Is it still a stag?"

"Still a stag," he replied.

"It was bloody brilliant," said Lily. "So bright, and lifelike. All I got was a cloud."

"It was a massive, lovely cloud, though," said James. Lily elbowed him, and he draped an arm casually round her neck. "I mean it! You're so close to getting it. It'll be any day now."

"You'll have to show us later," said Annabelle as they continued to class. "I want to see it."

"Sure but it'll cost ya. I don't perform for free."

"A bit cocky, isn't he," said Lily.

"I'll give you a box of Sirius' jelly beans."

"Hold on, you," said Sirius. "Don't go offering my sweets to this greedy git."

"I can steal his beans any time I like," James informed her. "No, but really, I'll show you later. Unless it was a fluke, then sorry you missed it."

"I think you've got the hang of it now," encouraged Lily.

As Sirius smiled, he hoped no one could tell it was pretend. He saw Peter up ahead and picked up his pace to join him.

In class, Annabelle sat down beside him and gave his side a poke. He contorted, using his arm to block another attempt to get him to laugh.

"You were in a hurry to get to class," she said. "I started speaking to you and you were gone."

"Oh? What were you going to say?"

"Can't remember now."

She smiled in her sweet way and turned to her textbook, opening it to the page inscribed on the board. A layer of cold sweat had formed on his forehead, and he wiped it away with the sleeve of his robe. Every time this Patronus business came up, he hoped it was the last time, but now he realised it was only going to get worse. James had done it again, and Lily was so close. Alice said she had almost done it the other day in her training and was confident she would master it soon, and Remus and Peter had been practising as well. Annabelle had recently tried it in his presence in the courtyard, in the hopes that he would bring her good luck. A billowing fog had swirled above them, and they held their breath, but then it dissolved into thin air.

He had been amazed, and envious. It might not have been a corporeal Patronus, but it was far more than he had accomplished. Again, he resolved to try it himself, in private, and he'd slipped into an empty classroom after leaving her in the library for her shift. As soon as he tried to focus, he felt foolish, like he had no business being there. Each attempt became more frantic and futile than the one before it, and not only did he fail, but he failed tremendously. As always, past had bled into present, taunting and jeering at his efforts until he gave up, without so much as a mist to show for it. At least he wasn't alone – Peter had been practising daily and had produced nothing; not that he wanted Peter to be unsuccessful, but he wasn't keen on being the only failure among his mates either.

"I remember what I was going to say," whispered Annabelle. "That I bet you'll be next. The one who never practises, never even thinks about casting a Patronus, and you'll just do it one day, out of boredom or something."

Her belief in his abilities was usually a source of strength for him, but not this time. Because she was wrong.

"Don't count on it Annie. To do that I'd have to try, and like I said before, I've got better things to do."

He could feel her eyes on him, scanning his countenance for the slightest indicator as to what was going on behind his mask of indifference.

"But why don’t you want to? It wouldn't be difficult for you – not as difficult as it is for most people anyway-"

"It would still take time and effort which I'd rather spend on more valuable skills."

Her gaze lingered on him a moment, then she looked to the front of the classroom to where Esmeralda was sat. He was glad when the subject changed, although he was growing weary from hearing her worry over what Esmeralda Roux thought of her.

"I don’t know why it should bother me," she said, “but Esmeralda saw me sit down and didn’t say a word.”

"Perhaps it's best to let it be. Don't you think so?"

"Perhaps."

But he could tell she didn't think so. She was hurt, and all because of a Slytherin girl's dismissal of her. Annabelle would never cease to confuse him, but at the same time, he wanted her to be happy, and if that meant clearing the air with Esmeralda, then…

"Or, perhaps you could speak to her. Ask her how she's doing or something."

"I could… but I think I'll give her a bit more time first. It's not like we used to speak regularly."

"You owe her nothing, Annie. You didn't do anything wrong."

"I know."

She gave him a small nod, but when Slughorn began listing ingredients, she became absorbed in note-taking, all thoughts of Patronuses and Esmeralda replaced by her desire to pass her Potions N.E.W.T. He slowly let out his breath.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Saturday morning arrived, and Johnny B. rose quietly from his bed, careful not to wake his roommates. Matthew's plane was landing at seven, and he could scarcely wait to see him.

His plan was to see Matthew, hug him and kiss him, and reassure himself that he was real and not just a dream he'd had several months ago. Then he would accompany him home safely and return to the castle before anyone had a chance to worry. So as not to make the same mistake he'd made once before, he had informed his mates of his plan. Annabelle had wanted to join him, and who was he to tell her no, but she decided against it at the last minute. He didn't ask why she changed her mind, but he was grateful, because he didn't want company. He wanted to hold Matthew without an audience, to kiss him without feeling self-conscious. He wanted the moment for himself.

Annabelle had warned him, or threatened him within an inch of his life more like it, to come back to the castle at a reasonable time. Everyone was extra sensitive lately, and rightly so. They'd lost Fairfax to Voldemort, and had almost lost Zelda. But he couldn't see how he was in any more danger than one of the thousands of Londoners out and about in the early morning hours. The odds of him being attacked were the same as they'd always been: slim to none.

It wasn't coincidence that Matthew's flight got in early. He had specifically chosen the earliest one so Johnny B. could get to him without issue. Navigating his way through Heathrow Airport presented no challenge, and he found himself at the appropriate gate at the appropriate time. What he hadn't anticipated was a sign reading the flight was delayed by a half hour. He wondered if he'd made a mistake not bringing Annabelle and Sirius with him; a delay meant more time for them to worry something had happened to him. He would have to cut his time with Matthew short.

Forty-five minutes later, the plane arrived, and Johnny B. stood near the gate with several others, waiting for the passengers to disembark. Momentarily forgetting about what drama awaited him at the castle if he was late, he grew anxious as passengers appeared from the jet way, waiting for Matthew to be next.

And then he appeared, doing a quick scan of the gate area before finding Johnny B, and the smile that followed was blinding. Johnny B. grinned, his heart surging in his chest as Matthew wove his way to him, breaking into a jog when his path was clear. Dropping his carry-on bag, he flew straight in Johnny B.'s arms. No words were spoken, their voices buried beneath an overwhelming weight of emotion, and when they finally pulled back, just enough to look at one another, their lips were reunited as well.

"You're here," said Johnny B. "You're really here."

"God, I've missed you," said Matthew.

He was as beautiful as ever, his skin tanned and his hair sun-kissed. His tear-soaked eyelashes clung together, and his sapphire eyes shined brighter than Johnny B. had ever seen them.

A snicker was heard nearby, and they were pulled from their elation by the awareness they were being watched… and judged. Johnny B. bent to pick up Matthew's bag and slung it over his shoulder.

"Come on, let's get out of here."

After getting his massive rucksack from the baggage claim, they departed into the clear day, their hands stroking each other's hair, their lips unable to keep from kissing each other. Time lost its meaning for Johnny B., and as they navigated the system of buses and underground trains, they clung to each other as they caught up. Matthew spoke of Australia fondly – he had made good friends in Sydney who couldn't wait to meet Johnny B. Eventually he brought up the subject of Fairfax. He'd sent his condolences when it occurred, and had written back and forth with Johnny B. hoping to help him through it despite being so far away.

"I wish I could have been there for you and Annie," he said. "It felt wrong, being on the other end of the world when you were suffering."

"Your letters helped."

"Being apart from you for so long taught me one thing."

"What's that?"

"That wherever I go from now on, I want it to be with you."

A warmth spread through Johnny B., and he squeezed Matthew's hand. "Today feels like Christmas morning."

They kissed again, not stopping when laughter from further down the car was heard. "Why are the fittest ones always gay?" a girl's voice said. "It never fails."

Johnny B. smiled against Matthew's lips.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

As Annabelle sat down to breakfast, she was struck by Johnny B.'s absence. She had seen the disappointment in his eyes when she mentioned she wanted to accompany him to the airport, and after talking to Lily and Alice about it, she accepted she had to let him go by himself.

"I can tell he doesn't want Sirius and me to go with him," she had said to them a few days before. "I don't know what to do."

"He can't go alone," said Lily.

"Normally I'd agree," said Alice. "But three's a crowd, you know?"

"Yes, but what if he gets _attacked?_ " asked Annabelle.

"It's not like Death Eaters are roaming the streets of London, randomly striking people down in plain sight. They operate under a veil of secrecy, remember?"

Annabelle shook her head in protest. "But the airport? What if it's like the sweet factory, and-"

"Annie, I hate to say it, but none of us could stop something on a grand scale like that, especially if it took us by surprise. We can't hide inside this castle forever, either."

Annabelle hung her head. Alice knew better than any of them what the risks were outside the castle, but it was difficult not to be scared, despite her assurances that he would be all right.

"Well... I reckon we know where he's going," said Lily. "And we know where Matthew lives. If we suspect anything is wrong, we can look for him."

"Johnny B. is clever," added Alice. "He knows what he's doing. Let him have some time with Matthew alone. It's not easy being in a long distance relationship, never getting any time with each other. Can you imagine going seven months apart from Sirius?"

Annabelle knew Alice spoke from experience, having gone weeks at a time without seeing Frank, but seven months was an unimaginable amount of time to be away from Sirius. Luckily, it was also improbable. He would never leave her for that long, no matter what, nor would she leave him. Yet, she understood Alice's point. The rest of them would see Matthew soon enough, and Johnny B. would be fine, or so Annabelle tried to convince herself. Voldemort typically went after individuals that posed a threat to his power, and off the Quidditch pitch, Johnny B. was hardly a threat to anyone.

But seeing his empty seat at breakfast, she began to fret. Calculating the time Matthew's plane was to arrive with how long it took to get from Heathrow to Hampstead, she figured he'd be back quite soon.

"Do you think he should be back by now?" she whispered to Sirius.

Sirius glanced at his watch. "It's still early. He's not going to see him for minute and run."

"No, of course he's not."

She looked at her half-eaten porridge, and set down her spoon. Why was it that her mind always went to the worst possible scenario? Images of Johnny B. being captured by Death Eaters, tortured, and cursed dead infiltrated her brain, and nausea settled in the pit of her stomach.

Just in time, Sirius' hand found hers. "He's all right, Annie. They're together. They're happy. And he'll be back soon."

She nodded, taking deep breaths. But thinking positively didn't come easy anymore. _No more hospitals, no more death_ , she begged the universe. _Please._

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

When they reached Matthew's house, Johnny B. went inside with him, allowing himself a few more minutes. A note from Matthew's mother was on the kitchen table, letting him know she'd gone to the supermarket, and that his dad was up at the pub. She would be back soon to welcome him home with a full English fry-up, and to ask Johnny B. to stay.

Matthew reached out a hand to him, and Johnny B. looked down at it and smiled, then laced his fingers with Matthew's. A moment later, they were upstairs, slamming Matthew's bedroom door shut behind them, and kissing like people in love did when they hadn't seen in other in what felt like forever.

Matthew tugged Johnny B.'s jacket off, letting it fall, then his hands were gripping the hem of his t-shirt, pushing it up over his chest until Johnny B. finished the job and dropped it to floor. Matthew's mouth on his collarbone erased all thoughts of Hogwarts, as he would gladly risk his life one hundred times over to experience this even for five minutes.

They staggered together to the bed, hands tearing at trousers, mouths against skin. Euphoria ensued, and Johnny B. would have stayed in bed with Matthew all day if they didn't hear Mrs. Harris' voice ring out from below.

"Matthew? Are you back, darling?"

The boys leapt from the bed, frantically pulling their clothes back on.

"Yes, mum, I'll be down in a moment!"

But she was already on her way up the stairs. Johnny B. had never dressed himself so quickly in his life, and Matthew dove to the bed to smooth the duvet. As the door opened, Johnny B. dropped to the floor in front of Matthew's dresser and leaned against it as though he'd been sitting there all morning. Matthew flung open his rucksack and picked up a shirt, hoping she'd believe he was unpacking.

"Matty!" she cried, embracing him. "Oh, we've missed you so much darling!"

"Missed you too, Mum," he said as he hugged her back. Johnny B. could tell he meant it by the ways his eyes filled with tears again. He loved that Matthew was close to his family.

Mrs. Harris spotted Johnny B. on the floor. "And you'll be staying for breakfast, won't you?"

He stood up and gave her a hug. "Can't stay today, Mrs. Harris. Have to be somewhere."

"It'll only take a few minutes for me to cook. Eat something, then you can be on your way. I insist."

Matthew sent him an expectant look, and Johnny B. caved. "I reckon it'll be all right."

"Great. Continue your unpacking. I'll let you know when it's ready."

Johnny B. waited for the door to close, then waved his wand. The clothes started unpacking themselves, and Matthew's face lit up.

"Amazing," he said. "You're truly amazing."

They stole a glance at each other, still aching for each other's arms, but not wanting to disrespect Matthew's mother.

Finally, Matthew spoke his desires out loud. "I have to at least kiss you, Johnny. Seven months without you felt like a lifetime, and now that you're here, I can't not kiss you."

"I know another charm," Johnny B. offered. "One to soundproof a room."

A corner of Matthew's mouth turned up. "What if we don't hear her calling for us?"

"It only blocks sounds from leaving the room. I'd have to cast it again from the hallway to keep us from hearing her."

Matthew gripped Johnny B.'s t-shirt and pulled him toward his bed. "This magic stuff is rather convenient, isn't it?"

"More than I ever realised," said Johnny B., aiming his wand behind him at the door. " _Colloportus_."

The lock clicked into place, and they fell onto the bed. Johnny B. cast the soundproofing charm, and smiled proudly. Then Matthew's mouth was on his, and again, all sense of time left him.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

James and Lily hurried to their prefect meeting after breakfast, and with the gorgeous weather and everyone itching to be outside, they kept it short. Afterwards, they did a walkthrough of the castle, which was one of Lily's favourite duties as head girl, because it allowed her to have James all to herself.

"When Johnny B. gets back," he said, "I think we're going out to the pitch."

"What about revising?"

"Eh, revising can wait until later. Have to take advantage of the weather when we can."

"It's not that warm out," said Lily. "People are wearing coats."

"Yes, but it's better than it was yesterday. Want to join us?"

"For what? Quidditch?"

"Sure, why not?"

"No, thank you, James. I'll leave Quidditch to you."

"It was worth a shot."

They strolled, hand in hand, their thoughts in two different places.

"Do you think Johnny B.'s all right?" asked Lily.

"Sure I do. Are you worried?"

"A bit. Maybe we shouldn't have encouraged Annabelle to stay behind."

"Look, I know how you feel – I'm not keen on anyone going to London alone. But you have to think, what's going to happen when we leave Hogwarts? We'll be living in London. Are we going police each other's every move?"

"No, but we can look out for each other, can't we?"

"Yes, and we will, but we're going to be working, and we won't be able to keep tabs on each other all the time. We have to come to terms with that."

"I know. But we're not there yet, so for now I'm going to worry."

"Suit yourself," he said as they passed by the prefect's bathroom. He stopped in his tracks, then jogged backwards to the door. "Bubbles," he said, and the door opened. "Can you believe it? It's available."

"So?"

"So… maybe a nice relaxing bath… with your boyfriend… would take your mind off your worries."

"James," she whispered sharply. "We can't. What if we get caught?"

"Who would catch us? Everyone is either outside or revising."

"Peeves? Moaning Myrtle? Any number of ghosts?"

"So, what you're saying is, you won't join me in this luxurious bath, because of ghosts?"

"You make it sound crazy, but you know they might pass through."

"The house ghosts never come in here, and as for the other two, they're easily persuaded to leave, and that's if they show up at all."

"What if they threaten to tell?"

"We’ll leave. They can't prove a thing."

Lily tugged at a strand of her hair, brushing it over her lips as she considered his suggestion. Her conscience warred with her desires, and she looked to the floor, then at him again. His hazel eyes stared back at her hopefully, and when he raised an eyebrow, her heart skipped a beat. There was nothing wrong or shameful about her feelings for him, and with only a month and half of school left, she didn't want to have a single regret. And as the boys always said, rules were made to be broken.

"So?" asked James. "What do you think?"

She nibbled at her bottom lip, then said, "Let's go inside. We'll decide from there."

He reached out his hand, and she gave him hers. She jumped as the door closed automatically behind them, but a thrill went through her as she followed him to the bath. Where was the indignant girl who had balked at the idea of doing this very thing earlier in the year? She didn't know, but as James looked back at her, she was ready to let her go.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Annabelle and Sirius sat down on the sofa in the room with the fireplace, both coughing a little as dust rose from the sheet beneath them. She had been so worried about Johnny B. that Sirius suggested they wait for him there, so that when he did arrive back at the castle, Annabelle would be the first to know, and her mind could rest.

To prevent Filch from catching them, they remained covered with Annabelle's invisibility cloak. For Sirius, it was the only perk of waiting in the dusty dark room. Squashed together under the silky fabric, it felt like they were in their own little world. But she was not enjoying the experience as much as he was, her face apprehensive as she sat stiff as a board. He could understand why – they had learnt that tragedy came from nowhere, when they least expected it. If she anticipated it, maybe it would retreat. Or perhaps her fear was the natural result of loved ones being attacked or killed, from her Grandfather, to Fairfax, to Zelda. Whatever the case, she was a wreck.

"Annie, come on now. You can't get all worked up like this. Not yet anyway."

"I can't help it. It's this feeling… like I have no control and the world is just spinning all chaotic like…"

She shook her head and stared down at her hands, which were balled into fists as they rested on her knees. Sirius put his hand over hers, gently prying her fingers open and bringing them to his lips. Then he pulled her head to his shoulder, his arm securely around her.

"This state you're in – it's about more than Johnny B. isn't it?"

It took her a moment to answer. "What are we going to do when we no longer have Hogwarts to protect us?"

"Hogwarts didn't do such a great job protecting us from Teagan."

"But there's more like her out there. We’re like - like birds being tossed from the nest into a hurricane."

Sirius swallowed hard, the truth in her words unsettling. "That's one way to look at it. Or, we can remember how prepared we are, and the precautions we'll take. You have to think, life is carrying on in London as we speak. Witches and wizards are going about their day, and they're fine."

"Right. But aren't they deluding themselves? He wants to destroy most of them."

"Some are fighting back. Probably more than we know. Not everyone is sitting idly by."

She gazed at him for a moment, her face stoic, then she said, "I don't want to sit idly by."

"And you won't. Your work at the Ministry will be some of the most important efforts to defeat him. That department stands for everything Voldemort hates – helping the needy, squibs, and elderly witches and wizards with no one to rely on; and fighting for a fairer, kinder world. You'll be part of the resistance by default."

He didn't mention it, because he didn't want to add to her distress, but the more he tried to convince her everything would be okay, the more he felt his own fear gnawing at him. She was so afraid for everyone else, but what if following in her grandfather's footsteps put her in harm's way? Not that anyone thought Voldemort was strong enough to take down the Ministry – he would never succeed even if he was stupid enough to try. But then again, if he wasn't defeated soon…

There was also the concern that word of who caught Teagan would get back to Voldemort himself. Alice had tried to assuage them with information she had learned during her training. She had said the Ministry had it on good authority that Voldemort most likely wasn't aware of the Teagan situation. If that was case, and his followers had acted on his behalf without his permission, they would be killed, so they would do everything in their power to keep it a secret from him. Plus, Voldemort had more important issues - and people - to deal with. But her assurances weren't enough to prevent Sirius from having grisly nightmares that woke him in a state of terror several nights a week.

"We'll do whatever we have to in order to stay safe," he said. "We'll be there for each other even if we're not all under the same roof."

She rested her head on his shoulder again, and the persistent need to keep her safe engulfed him. It was wild when he thought about it; a girl he’d written off for so long had become his favourite person in the world, and he couldn't bear the thought of living in separate flats when they finished school, even though it was the plan. She would live with Lily and Alice, and he with James, Peter, and possibly Remus, who was still dragging his feet on the arrangement. But where? Would they be close by? Or would they be spread across London, having to apparate or Floo it to each other's homes?

He decided then that Uncle Alphard's money would see to it they were together, even if he had to purchase an entire block of flats. If anyone argued, he would remind them it was not his own hard-earned money being spent, but his uncle's, so they needn't feel obligated to repay him. He couldn't see any other way except to become a worried wreck himself, wanting to follow her everywhere like a crazy person.

"How can I help ease your mind?" he asked, doing his best to breathe normally. They had to do something to distract them from the downward spiral of their thoughts.

"Slip me some Calming Draught."

"Unfortunately, I have none on hand. Would snogging do?"

A moment passed as his words sunk in, and she gave him a funny look. "At a time like this?"

"I'd say it's as good a time as any. Johnny B. will back soon. We might as well enjoy ourselves until then."

She studied him, her expression contemplative, and he thought she might be annoyed with him for suggesting it. But then she looped her arms round his neck.

"Let's give it a go."

"You mean it? Y-you want to?"

She nodded, her lips pressing together in a bashful grin, and he started to feel better already. It was working - for him, anyway.

"Why are you so adorable?" he asked.

"Don't know. Why are you?"

He didn't kiss her immediately. Instead, he hesitated, prolonging the anticipation. He'd kissed her countless times, and yet the prospect of kissing her still excited him.

She looked at his lips, then lifted her gaze to his eyes. Shifting slightly, she put her hands on the sides of his head, then closed her eyes and brushed her nose against his.

And he was finished, completely hers for the taking.

Her lips parted and she ran them across his. Electricity buzzed through him, and he kissed her softly at first before pulling back to see her face again. Her eyes opened, and after a charged pause, she climbed onto his lap, her knees hugging his hips. The invisibility cloak began to slip, but she caught it and pulled it back into place.

"Why so surprised?" she whispered.

He ran a hand over her hair. "I – I thought I'd upset you when I suggested this."

"When are you going to realise I can't resist you?"

Pulling her face to his, he kissed her again, and gentleness gave way to passion as lips moved to necks, and hands caressed skin wherever they could reach. He was so turned on, which was unfortunate, because there would be no sex when Johnny B. might appear at any moment. But the way she was pressing herself into him, and the soft sighing sound she made when he touched her, he didn't want it to end…

"YOU THERE!" Filch's voice grated from the corridor. "What are you doing in this part of the castle?"

The pair froze, their ecstasy replaced by sheer horror.

"Didn't realise taking a stroll was against the rules," Johnny B.'s voice responded.

Annabelle and Sirius stared at each other in bewilderment. Whatever was going on, they'd missed something along the way.

"You are well aware this section of the castle is forbidden to students. What is your name?"

"Em… it's… Bertram Aubrey."

"I'll be reporting you to the Headmaster. Now be gone with you!" Johnny B. must have muttered something rude as he descended the stairs, because Filch growled, "I beg your pardon? Your foul language will also be reported!"

"How is it possible we didn't hear him pass through?" whispered Annabelle.

"My idea to distract you worked better than we expected."

Annabelle choked back a laugh, and Sirius raised a finger to his lips, listening. Filch entered the room. Annabelle's eyes went round, but the rest of her remained motionless. Past her arm, Sirius could see him inspecting the fireplace. He bent down and ran a finger along the hearth, then examined the residue he'd picked up.

"Floo powder," he murmured, then hobbled out the door.

After waiting for his footfalls to grow distant, Annabelle pulled the cloak off and stood up, fixing her clothing and taming her hair.

"He knows something's up with that fireplace," she said. "We'd better go."

Despite wanting to stay a bit longer, Sirius agreed, especially now that they knew Johnny B. was safe. When they were ready, they draped the cloak over themselves again and made their way back to Gryffindor Tower. Filch was on a mission, and they didn't want to be there when Dumbledore arrived to discover, and inevitably cut off, their cherished Floo connection.

When they reached the portrait, Annabelle led Sirius to the bannister. Kissing him once, she said, "We'll continue where we left off later."

"I look forward to it."

She stepped back and started to remove the cloak, but he tugged her close again. After another lingering kiss, they made sure no one was coming, and pulled off the cloak. The Fat Lady screamed, and they laughed as the stress of earlier evaporated.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

When Lily finished dressing, she picked up a plush white towel and ran it over her wet hair, the urge to giggle welling up inside her. Sometimes she wasn’t sure who she was anymore, and as daunting as that was, it was also exciting. All she knew was she had just done the unthinkable, and when she looked at James, any guilt she felt faded to nothing. His wet hair kept falling into his eyes, and her laughter bubbled out of her. He shook a hand though it, smiling almost shyly, and she couldn't take her eyes off him.

"What?" he asked, his smile fading. "Was it… you know…” Realising he would have to finish his question for her to answer, he took a deep breath and spit it out. “Was it good for you?"

She grinned, looking away. "It was better than good."

"Phew," he replied. He put an arm round her and they headed for the door. "Although, I'd be happy to make it up to you if it wasn't."

"You've corrupted me enough for one day."

"Um, excuse me, but I think you've corrupted _me_. I was an innocent little berk until you came along."

"I like the sound of that. Lily Evans, _seductress_."

"I like the sound of it as we-" He opened the door and froze, his mouth gaping open. Facing them were Remus and Claire. Remus’ eyes darted to their wet hair.

"We- we –" began Lily, "we-"

"You don't need to explain!" Claire replied stiffly. It was hard to tell who had turned redder, her or Remus.

James pursed his lips in an effort not to laugh, but Remus looked like he was going to implode with embarrassment.

"We'll be on our way now," said Lily as she pushed past James, her skin burning. "Bye!" she called without looking back.

Claire had started walking in the opposite direction, but the awkwardness of the moment prevented Remus and James from moving straightaway. James raised an eyebrow, his lips twisting into a smile.

"It's all yours, Moony. Enjoy."

"Wha-" he stammered, then cleared his throat. "What's all mine?"

As James backed away, he pointed at the bathroom door and wagged his eyebrows up and down. Remus went redder than a tomato, and stumbled away. When he discovered Claire was halfway down the corridor, he picked up his pace.

James laughed to himself and caught up to Lily. She was no longer smiling.

"Don't get upset, Lil. They were clearly coming there to do the same thing we did."

"How do you know?"

"His hand was on the doorknob when I opened it?"

"Maybe they weren't, though."

"Weren't what?"

"Weren't planning to do what we did. In there. Maybe they don't do that."

James snorted a laugh. "Sure, okay." Lily glared at him. "All right, maybe they don't. But who cares? They don't know what we did either. Be glad it was them and not Carrow and that weirdo."

"Amycus has a girlfriend?"

"No. His sister has a boyfriend. Or something. Wait, you didn't hear?"

"No. Enlighten me."

"Pete saw Alecto Carrow coming out of a broom cupboard with – get this- _Lloyd Gibbons."_

Lily squinted. "Really?"

"Really. Strangest couple of the year, hands down."

"You're right," she said, cringing internally. "I reckon it would have been a million times worse if it was them waiting outside."

"This bathroom thing is nothing to fret about. Years from now, we're going to laugh about it, I promise. In fact, this is going to provide me with ample entertainment until school finishes."

She sent him a disapproving look. "Don't tease him. He's as embarrassed as I am."

"I could tell. You both need to get over it."

"How are we going to face them?"

"Face who?"

"Remus and Claire!"

"Are you kidding?"

"No, James, I'm not. I don’t like the idea of others knowing our personal business!"

“Honestly, Lily, I'm sorry they caught us, but there are worse things in life than awkward moments among friends."

She was reluctant to admit it, but he had a point. Life's turns had the potential to be devastating, and her embarrassment was minor in comparison. Remembering the way Remus eyed their wet hair, she pulled James into an empty classroom.

"We forgot to dry our hair."

"What, you don't want the whole school to know what we did?"

"James…"

"Just teasing, love."

They used the hot air charm to dry their hair, and when James finished, he helped Lily with hers, since it took double the time due to the sheer amount of hair she possessed.

"There," he said. "All better."

She tried to smile, but it was more like a sneer. "Let's go."

"Wait," he said. She stopped, turning impatiently to face him. His cocky grin was gone, replaced by puppy dog eyes and a small frown. "Do you regret what we did? I mean, it's all right if you do, I'll understand. But I just want you to know, I don't. Even with what happened afterwards. As far as I'm concerned, we have nothing to be ashamed of."

"We're head girl and boy. The bathroom isn’t to be shared and we know that."

"What can I say, Lil? You’re a delinquent.”

She pressed her lips together in an effort to keep from laughing. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop thinking about how intoxicating the experience was. Every time she was intimate with him, she felt so close to him, like they were meant to be together forever. If she was being realistic, she was lucky they'd made it as long as they had without someone catching them exiting a broom cupboard. It was bound to happen at some point, when all the places to be alone together were accessible to other students. And Remus and Claire couldn't possibly hold it against them, especially since she had a sneaky feeling they were also using the facilities for purposes other than bathing.

"I'll never regret my time with you," she said. "No matter how illicit."

"Good.” He stepped toward her and pulled her into his arms. "Because I love you, and I never want you to feel ashamed of us."

"Oh sweetheart, I'm not. And I won't be, ever."

As his lips met hers, she relaxed some, grateful for this extraordinary boy who could make her feel like she was flying with a single kiss.

“You’re all right, then?” he asked.

“I think I’ll survive.” She was about to kiss him again when her hands flew over her mouth. "Johnny B.! Let's go see if he’s back."

“Ah, yes. Let’s go.” She slipped her arm through his, and as they started back to the tower, he asked, "So, how do you feel about making the Prefect's bathroom a more frequent stop on our walkthroughs?"

"Don't push your luck, Prongs."

"I had a feeling you’d say that. At least I’ll have the memory of it to keep me warm."

"You'll have heaps of memories like it, once we're on our own."

Her comment took a moment to register, but when it did, words failed him. "Right...I...em," he stammered. " _Flat._ Must find flat as soon as possible. Preferably one with large en-suite bath."

"Perhaps you should focus on N.E.W.T.s for the time being, no?"

"Sure. N.E.W.T.s," he mumbled absently, consumed by thoughts of London real estate, and baths. Lily couldn't help but laugh.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"How was the reunion?" Annabelle asked as she plunked down on Johnny B.'s bed. Sirius had gone to his room to change for Quidditch. "Was it glorious?"

Johnny B.'s cheeks went pink, but he hid his reaction by pulling on an old jumper. "Yes, it was. Like a dream."

"I can't wait to see him. Does he look different? Does he sound Australian?"

"No, and no." Johnny B. chuckled. "For a clever girl, you sound really daft sometimes."

"Why? Because I asked if he looked different? He might have grown his hair or something – that's all I meant."

"No, Annie. Because you asked if he sounded Australian. He wasn't there _that_ long."

"Oh… right. I guess he wasn't. What took you so long to get back?"

"His mum wanted me to stay for breakfast."

"Lucky you. Mrs. Harris is great cook."

"I got back here as fast as I could. That batty old Filch caught me coming from the room, though. Now I'll never hear the end of it - how Johnny B. got the Floo connection closed. Let’s hope he didn’t figure it out."

Annabelle didn’t mention that he did figure it out, because she didn’t want to explain to him how she knew. Her time with Sirius was special, and it belonged to them alone.

"We're leaving soon," she said sadly. "So it doesn't matter really. We won't be using it anymore."

"True. And I for one can't wait to get out of this place. I love it here, but it's not enough anymore. I want to do more, and experience more. And it'd be nice to have some privacy, yeah? You can't sneeze in this place without everyone knowing about it."

"You sound like Sirius."

He shot her a sideways glance. "Don't tell me you want to stay – as in _not_ move to London."

"I thought I wanted to, but now… let's just say there are worse places we could be than Hogwarts."

"Sorry to be the one to tell you this, but you have no choice. You're being evicted in a few short weeks, whether you like it or not. Can't stay at Hogwarts forever."

Annabelle scowled. "I know. And I'm excited to move to London, truly. But I'm also apprehensive. Is that all right?"

Johnny B. sent her a sympathetic smile. "Of course it's all right. Change is scary, isn't it? But we're going to have a great time. You'll see."

He gave her hair a tousle and she smiled half-heartedly. A knock was heard and Sirius appeared in the doorway, dressed in joggers and a long-sleeved Ballycastle Bats t-shirt. "Are you ready?" he asked.

"Sure, just give me a mo," said Johnny B. "I can't find my other shoe. _Accio trainer!"_

"You're sure you don't want to join us?" Sirius asked Annabelle.

"I'll pass. Think I'm going to revise for Potions."

"That's all you do anymore," said Johnny B. as he pulled a trainer on without untying it. "I thought you were going to skip it."

"I still might. Haven't decided yet."

"She'll be deciding up til the last minute," said Sirius. "Then she'll take the exam and pass."

"You act like you know me or something," said Annabelle as she approached him at the door.

"I know you better than most, my dear."

Their lips touched, and Johnny B. groaned. "Can we not flaunt it? I just said goodbye to Matthew, and I probably won't see him again until summer. Have some compassion, for Merlin's sake."

Annabelle grinned. "Sorry. I'll see you two at lunch. My Potions book is calling."

As she left, she gave Sirius' bum a discreet pinch. He startled, but when he reached for her in revenge, she dodged his grasp, giggling as she disappeared under her cloak.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

That evening, James parked himself at a study table across from Remus, a hint of a smile on his lips. Remus glared at him. "If you say a word, Prongs, I'll seal your mouth shut permanently. Don't think I won't."

James unrolled a parchment, and squinted at down at it. "Not going to say a word."

Once Remus was sure the topic was dropped, he turned back to his book.

"Nope," James continued. "Not going to say a word about your highly irresponsible misuse of the Prefect’s bathroom."

Remus slammed his quill down. "Are we really going to do this? Because I do recall seeing you and Lily exiting said bathroom with, curiously enough, _wet_ _hair_."

"Relax, Moony. I'm only trying to ease the awkwardness. I actually don't give a toss what you do in there."

"So relieved to hear it," said Remus with an eye-roll. "I have loads of work to do, so do you mind?"

"I don't mind at all."

James opened his book and read a few lines, marked his place, and closed it again. "It's just that Lily – she was rather embarrassed. So was I, for a second. You know how she is, she's really proper and she takes her role as Head Girl seriously, more seriously than I take my role-"

"Bloody hell, Prongs," Remus retorted a bit too loudly. He cleared his throat and whispered, "Claire and I were about to, well, it's obvious we were about the break the rules as well… and I'm a prefect! Let's just say I'd be an awful hypocrite to judge either of you."

"Great. It's settled then."

Remus gave a nod, and they both went back to their books. James was sure there was nothing left to discuss, and he stopped thinking about it.

"The same goes for Claire and me," said Remus.

"What goes for Claire and you?"

Remus stared at him in exasperation. "The bathroom thing! She's quite reserved-"

"I hadn't noticed," said James with a straight face. When Remus sent him another irritated look, he chuckled. "Just a joke. Look mate, the way I see it, we're adults now, sort of. We don't have to explain ourselves to each other. Now, can we drop this? It's getting ridiculous."

"You brought it up, mate."

"I did, but only because Lily felt uncomfortable sitting here with you."

Remus winced. "That's completely irrational." He looked to where she sat on the sofa, and she glanced nervously back at him. He mouthed to her, " _It's nothing. Really_ ," and then he gestured for her to join them.

When she sat down, James, still finding the situation more amusing than anything else, leaned back in his chair and smiled.

"See, Lily? I told you it wasn't a big deal."

"Let's not be embarrassed," Remus said to her. "Especially when we're all guilty of the same infraction."

"Exactly what I've been saying," agreed James. "We're all a bunch of bathroom deviants who don't deserve our powerful positions. Accept it and move on."

Remus and Lily both shot him daggers, and he fought the urge to laugh. "You're both far too intense for me right now. I'm going to find Padfoot and Wormtail."

Before he left, he nudged Lily's foot under the table, and she nudged his right back. When he reached the stairs, he glanced back at her, and she winked at him, causing his heart to flip.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Sirius was in their room, lying on his back with a hand over his eyes, his wand aimed at the ceiling.

"What spell are you practising?" asked James.

He startled slightly, and tossed his wand onto his night stand. "Oh, em, just some old charms. Testing my memory."

"Brushing up on your skills," said James as he flopped down on his bed. "Where's Annie?"

"In her room. She and Alice wanted to practise casting a Patronus."

"Where's Wormtail?"

"Chess with Lloyd Gibbons."

"Can't say I approve."

"Neither can I," said Sirius, "and I told him so. He said 'just because Gibbons snogged Alecto Carrow, doesn't mean he's not a worthy chess opponent.'"

"Eh, maybe he's right. Lily used to be mates with Snivellus and we still associate with her."

"But she's not mates with him anymore."

"True. But Pete needs chess opponents. No one in Gryffindor wants to play him anymore because he wins, every time."

"Poor sports.”

"Yep. So he has to go elsewhere to kick arse."

There was a knock at the door. "Come!" James shouted in a harsh, authoritarian tone. Both he and Sirius snickered like children at his performance.

Edmund Kittle poked his head in. "Ollivander's outside – wants to see you, Black."

Sirius furrowed his brow, then looked to James and shrugged. "Be right back."

"Wait – do you need back up?"

"Nah. Ollivander's not a problem."

But he couldn't fathom a reason for Jacoby to be waiting for him outside the common room. They were on relatively friendly terms, but they had no cause to seek each other out.

He warily stepped onto the landing, and Jacoby greeted him with a jovial "hey mate" and a handshake. Then he crossed his arms over himself.

"So, this thing with Teagan," he began, his eyes drifting to the landing below as he spoke. "Esmeralda's a mess over it. I know this is sort of out of the blue and all that, but we want you to know neither of us had any idea what she was up to. In case you assumed we might have, like everyone else round here does."

Sirius leaned against the wall, his hands in his pockets. "Good to know. You came all the way up here to tell me that?"

"No, actually. I came here for Es. She's convinced Annabelle… well… she's convinced Annabelle hates her now."

"Why would she think that?"

"She says Annabelle's been giving her the cold shoulder. Not acknowledging her existence and whatnot. I don't know. She doesn't usually care what people think of her, but for some reason, this has been bothering her quite a bit."

Sirius shook his head at the irony of the situation.

"It's funny you should say that, because Annabelle is convinced Esmeralda is angry with her for turning Teagan in. She thought she was purposely ignoring her."

"Huh. That's good news. Should be an easy fix. Is Annabelle here?"

"Sure. She's upstairs."

"Es!" Jacoby called down the stairs. Much to Sirius' surprise, Esmeralda peeked her sad, drawn face round the bannister.

"Yes?"

Jacoby raised a finger to Sirius. "Hold on moment," he said, and jogged down to the landing below. After conferring with Esmeralda, he loped back up the stairs. "Would Annabelle be willing to speak with her now?"

"I'll find out."

Inside, Sirius found Lily at a study table with Remus.

“Can you ask Annie to come down?” he requested.

 “Is everything all right?”

“Esmeralda wants to speak to her.”

Lily’s eyebrows shot up. “Does she come in peace?”

“I actually think she does.”

“All right then, I’ll let her know.”

A moment later, she returned with Annabelle, who had confusion written all over her face.

"She’s here?" she whispered, a hand over her heart.

"It's good news," he said, taking her hand and leading her to the portrait hole. "Apparently she thought you were angry with her. She looks miserable, Annie."

Annabelle gave a short nod, and he opened the portrait. She cautiously followed him out. Jacoby was there, and he greeted her with a hello, then he motioned down the stairs to where a rather forlorn Esmeralda stood. There was an emptiness in her eyes that caused Annabelle's chest to tighten.

Sirius wasn't about to leave her out there alone with two Slytherins, no matter how trustworthy they seemed, so he chatted with Jacoby while the girls descended to the sixth floor landing to chat.

"You might want to sit back a bit," warned Annabelle as they sat down. "This staircase moves a lot."

"Oh, of course," she said, scooting back and pulling her knees to her chest.

"How are you?" asked Annabelle.

Esmeralda gave a bitter laugh. "I've been better." She peeked nervously at Annabelle, as if she didn’t know where to begin, but then a sob escaped her. "I promise, I didn't know what she was doing. She kept me in the dark about all of it. I know it's hard to believe, but – but –"

"I believe you. I do."

Esmeralda exhaled, taking a moment to wipe her eyes and compose herself. The torchlight flickered above them, and Annabelle could hear Sirius laughing in the distance, presumably at something Jacoby had said. The staircase a few floors below grated as it shifted, then immediately moved back into place again.

"Why wouldn't she tell me what was happening to her?" asked Esmeralda.

"She probably wanted to protect you."

She sniffled as she turned a handkerchief over in her hands. "The Wizengamot went easy on her, because she's still in school, and was coerced. She comes from a respectable family, and I heard that her mother cried out in the courtroom, begging for mercy. So she only has to do thirteen weeks in Azkaban, but thirteen weeks in a place like that?" More tears spilled down her cheeks, and she squeezed her eyes shut. "I still can't believe it. If she'd only _told_ me, I might have got her help. I would have done anything to keep her from hurting others and doing this to herself. She must have felt so alone."

Annabelle didn't know how to comfort her. Teagan and Annabelle had not been friends, and she couldn't forget Teagan was aiming at her when she hit Zelda.

"It must hurt terribly to see this happen to a friend."

"It's killing me. First Elsinore, now Teagan. Delilah won't speak to me, Evan is Merlin-knows-where, and then I thought you hated me as well. Besides Jacoby, I have no one. I no longer have any friends. And I can't understand where it all went wrong."

Annabelle felt a lump rising her throat. "I had to turn her in. I'm sorry if that hurt you-"

"I know you had to. She needed to be stopped."

"I never expected it to be her. I was shocked."

"It's strange," said Esmeralda, "I had a feeling she was bit jealous of you, because, like me, she felt like she was losing everyone. I meant to talk to her about it, but I never got the chance. I never thought she'd make you a target for – for murder. I swear, or I'd have warned you."

"I believe you."

Esmeralda blew out a breath, and wiped her eyes with her handkerchief. "I'm glad we finally talked about this."

"I'm glad we're friends," said Annabelle.

Esmeralda's brow crinkled again in despair, and Annabelle opened her arms, coaxing her into a hug. As Esmeralda wept onto her shoulder, Annabelle's own tears spilled over. There were so many facets to the hurt Voldemort was causing, and so many lives permanently altered for the worse.

"I can't wait until school finishes," said Esmeralda. "I just want to get out of here. I'm tired of everyone breathing down my neck, whispering behind my back, calling me a traitor. And the ones that aren't calling me traitor think I'm a Death Eater, because she was my best friend. I'm guilty by association. Everyone either resents me or fears me."

Annabelle's heart clenched in empathy. In addition to losing her friends to the darkness, Esmeralda had to live for the next several weeks in a house where she no longer fit in. Annabelle couldn't imagine feeling unwanted in her own home, but like Sirius, following her heart instead of conforming to hateful ideals would hopefully lead her to the people with whom she truly belonged.

"I don't fear or resent you," said Annabelle, "and nor do my mates. So if you ever need to get away, no one will bother you here. Just knock and ask for me."

She smiled through her tears, her chin trembling. "Thank you."

"And thank you for being the brave one between us. I don't know if I ever would have got up the nerve to approach you."

"I wasn't so brave. I convinced Jacoby to ask Sirius if you were upset with me, because I couldn't handle a confrontation if you were. I don't have the strength."

"Now you have one less thing to worry about, as do I."

She smiled frailly. "Right then. I'd better let you go. Jacoby offered to revise with me tonight, since I've been neglecting my studies, and we need to find an empty classroom. Too many distractions in the dungeon."

"I'll be glad when N.E.W.T.s are over," said Annabelle as they climbed the stairs. "Just want to be through with school."

She found it odd to hear herself saying that, when earlier she was telling Johnny B. how she didn't want to leave Hogwarts. The split inside confused her, and she wished she could have it both ways. Move to London with her mates, but come back to Hogwarts whenever the world became too much, and when she longed for the comfort of home.

And it struck her then, that unlike the majority of the student body, Hogwarts was her home. Others would go visit their parents when they needed familiarity, and a place where they felt secure and welcome. Some might even live with their parents for a time. Sure, the Evans' were always welcoming to her, but it wasn't the same. She wasn't their child.

Perhaps this was why it hurt her so much to leave Hogwarts, despite wanting to be free. She couldn't just return for the weekend when the mood struck her, and she started to feel abandoned all over again, even though rationally, she knew that wasn't the case. School was school, and she would make her own home. With her friends. And with Sirius.

"How're we doing?" Jacoby asked as they joined the boys by the entrance to the Common Room.

"Everything's grand," said Annabelle.

After a bit more small talk, Sirius shook Jacoby's hand again, and the four of them said their good nights. The pair of Slytherins descended the stairs, and as their voices faded, Sirius slipped an arm round Annabelle and kissed her temple.

"I think you were right," he said.

“About what?”

"They're not all evil. Slytherins, I mean."

“Could you repeat that? I’m not sure I heard you correctly.”

He closed his eyes and laughed. “All Slytherins aren’t evil. Don’t make me say it again.”

She pushed his hair back and kissed him softly on the lips, then gazing into his eyes, she said, "I'm going to miss this.”

"You can still kiss me in London, darling.”

"Ha ha. I mean I'm going to miss the little things. Like standing out here with you, trying to fit in enough kisses to last me until morning."

"But soon we'll be kissing each other to sleep every night. You'll never have to go without."

"I like the sound of that."

"That makes two of us," he said, his lips almost touching hers.

The portrait burst open, startling them both. Caradoc was cracking up as Edmund chased him down the stairs in a rage. He gave up his pursuit when the stairs shifted, allowing Caradoc to escape. Caradoc cackled victoriously as the stairs moved him farther away, and Edmund sent him a two-fingered salute before stomping back up the stairs.

"Prick," he spat under his breath. "All right?" he said politely to Sirius and Annabelle, then muttered the password and retreated into the Common Room.

"Another reason to be glad June is almost here," said Sirius as he tightened his arms around her. "No more interruptions."

There was a dreamy look in his eyes that mesmerized her, and she kissed him again, certain of one thing: as long they were together, anywhere would feel like home.


	24. Expecto Patronum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will either be the last or second to last for this story. This was supposed to be the last but it was going to be way too long, so I thought it best to split it up. Sorry for any typos - please let me know of any glaring issues.
> 
> Enjoy and please review!

The month of June arrived, bringing with it warmer days, but the seventh-years scarcely noticed. Preparation for N.E.W.T.s had a monopoly on their time, and they spent every afternoon and well into the evening hours at review sessions, in the Potions Lab, in the library, or in their dormitories with their noses buried in books. Sometimes it seemed like school would never finish, but the days ticking by on the calendar told a different story. At times, they wanted to quit revising and leave their test results to chance, but they had come too far to give up in the final stretch.

Alice was having a particularly rough go of it, since she had her Auror training to attend five days a week. She would return to the castle by dinner time, eat quickly, and then hurry off to study as much as possible before the library closed. Then she would return to the dormitory and continue her studies until well past midnight. Circles hung beneath her eyes, and occasionally one of her friends would discover her face down in a book, sound asleep, but since the situation was temporary, she pushed through the long, arduous days without complaint.

One evening, she sprinted into the Great Hall for dinner, skidding to a stop when she reached her seat.

"I cast a full Patronus!" she declared.

James applauded and congratulations ensued.

"What is it?" Annabelle asked.

"You're going to find it rather sappy, but it's a heron like Frank's."

"Awww!" Annabelle, Lily, and Johnny B. cooed at the same time.

"That is so sweet," said Lily.

"You and Frank truly are birds of a feather," teased Johnny B.

"Very funny," she said, but giggled, and it was obvious to anyone who knew her she was happy her Patronus matched Frank's.

"How does it work exactly?" asked Peter. "Frank cast his before you did, so yours is decided already?"

"No," she answered. "Not everyone's Patronus is the same as their boyfriend or girlfriend's. It just happens like that sometimes."

Peter's brow knitted in thought. "So, your Patronus might have been something else if you cast yours first, unless his copied what it knew yours would be."

"You're overthinking it, Pete," said James.

But Peter carried on. "Or perhaps their Patronuses would have been herons anyway, whether they were together or not. Perhaps it's just a coincidence."

"I like to think it's because we're together," said Alice, growing agitated.

"So do I," said Lily. "It happens too often for it to be a coincidence. And I also think it's romantic."

"All right," argued Peter. "What if you're in a relationship but your Patronuses don't match. Does that mean you're with the wrong person?"

"No," answered James. "My parents' Patronuses didn't match. My mum's was a swan, and my dad's was a stag like mine."

"And they were absolutely perfect for each other," said Lily.

"How fitting that Rosie's was a swan," said Annabelle. "So graceful and elegant, like her."

James looked down at the table, a faint smile crossing his lips. "She was."

Sirius forced himself to swallow a bite of food, despite the churning in his stomach. Whenever they weren't revising, this bloody topic always arose. He couldn't escape it if he tried. Gloria Henderson had cast one in the courtyard over the weekend – a squirrel – and it had whirled about the grass for a few seconds before fading away. Benjy Fenwick had done it as well – a giraffe – and word spread that it was amazing. With the exception of Peter, all of Sirius' friends who hadn't done it yet were close. They had moved beyond tiny mists to rolling fogs that teased and thrilled, nearly taking a form before disappearing.

Neither Annabelle nor James had broached the subject with him in weeks, but he could feel their eyes on him whenever it came up, analysing his varied reactions, which usually involved changing the subject, pretending to be engrossed in his studies, or excusing himself altogether. He could almost hear the questions floating in their heads, and it wouldn't be long before he would have to explain himself. Preparing for N.E.W.T.s meant less time alone with Annabelle in particular, though, and as much as he missed her, it also meant less chances for them to discuss his glaring lack of a Patronus. No matter how much she loved him, she couldn't fix this, so it was best to let it be.

"I don't think mine will ever be anything more than a cloud," said Johnny. B. "In fact, I've decided to name it… Cloudy B."

Caradoc snorted pumpkin juice out his nose, and Sirius tried to laugh along with everyone else.

"Why would you name a cloud?" Peter asked, genuinely perplexed.

Johnny B. huffed. "Forget it, Peter."

"But really. It's like naming a fart."

The sound of James and Remus choking on their laughter prompted Sirius to laugh as well. Peter was a great source of entertainment to them, even when he didn't intend to be. The irritated look on Johnny B.'s face made it even more comical, and he knew James and Remus thought so too. It had always been this way; Peter saying something completely inane, the other three finding it hilarious, and everyone else wondering what was so funny.

As their laughter subsided, Sirius was relieved when Lily started talking about training and work applications, which was one thing he didn't have to worry about. McFarlan had sent him a hiring letter even though he hadn't formally applied, and he accepted. It would suffice until he figured out what he really wanted to do with his life.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

A week later, Remus settled in with Claire at the top of the tallest battlement to take in the view. He hugged her from behind, his cheek against her head as they gazed into the blue sky. The air was mossy and damp, and Claire shivered in his arms.

"Are you cold?" he asked her.

"A bit, but I want to stay. It's so beautiful…" Her voice caught.

"What's the matter," asked Remus, turning her to face him.

Her chin trembled. "I don't want you to leave."

It was the topic they had done their best to avoid, because neither of them could face it. But here she was, breaking their unspoken pact to pretend nothing was going to change. And he still wasn't ready to talk about it, or to leave her.

"Ah, love, it's only for a year. We can meet in Hogsmeade every month, and we can write, and there's holidays, and-"

"Yes, but…" she faltered, twisting the bracelet on her wrist, "I'm going to miss you in between those times."

He pulled her close, rubbing her head in an effort to soothe her. "We'll get through it. It's not even a full year when you think of all the time off we get."

"Maybe I could visit you sometimes – on weekends," she suggested. "We could forge a letter from my parents saying I need to come home, or I could sneak out."

"Now Claire, you don't want to do that, not on your own. It's too risky. Hell, it was risky when we did it as a group. It's not a good idea." She held onto him, and he could feel her crying. "Come on love, it'll be all right. You'll be so busy with your internship and N.E.W.T.s, you won't have time to be lonely, and before you know it, we'll be together again."

If she still wanted him by then. She was so lovely with her doe eyes and her lustrous brown hair, and he wasn't the only one who thought so. That nuisance Silas Dunkley was always chatting her up, or trying to anyway. It didn't help that the two of them were in the same house.

Remus hadn't brought it up, because Claire didn't seem interested in Silas beyond a casual friendship, and also because Remus didn't want to appear threatened. However, with Remus away, Silas might step in and be there for her when her boyfriend couldn't be, and she might find she preferred Silas' company. And if that happened, Remus would lose the best thing that ever happened to him.

"You'll be working," she said, "probably surrounded by gorgeous, sophisticated witches. I can't compete with them."

It had never occurred to him that she might share the same fear, or how much it would hurt him to hear her doubts about his devotion. They were so alike sometimes.

"Are you kidding?" he asked. " _You_ are gorgeous and sophisticated, and you don't have to compete with anyone. I'm yours, no contest. Merlin, do you think I'd throw away what I have with you?"

"Promise you won't go falling in love with someone else?"

"I promise…as long as you don't." He was tempted to mention Silas, but he refused to let his leaving turn him into a jealous, insecure prick. That's not who he wanted to be.

"Me?" She chuckled as she wiped her eyes. "You must be mad. I've got the best boyfriend a girl could ever want, and I'd be out of my mind to let him go. Why do you think I'm worried about someone else trying to steal you away?"

He put his hands on her cheeks. "Worry no more, because the best boyfriend a girl could want wouldn't leave her for a co-worker, or anyone else for that matter. My feelings for you are real, and they're not going away."

"How did I ever get so lucky?"

"I'm the lucky one."

Relief took hold of him, and with it came the belief their relationship would survive the year apart. He touched his forehead to hers, basking in the softness of her skin. Her hands were roaming his back, and her eyes were closed. God, she was beautiful… and clever, and kind. How could she think he would leave her for someone else? It was impossible. Their noses brushed against each other, and he pressed his lips to hers. Kissing her every day would be among the things he would miss most about Hogwarts.

When they came up for air, he kept his arms round her waist, not ready to let go. "We're going to be fine, as long as we have trust in each other."

"I can do that," she said as she combed the hair away from his forehead with her fingers. After another lengthy kiss, she smiled through her tears. "How about you show me your Patronus?"

He shook his head. "You know it's nothing but a fog."

"Most people can't even produce a fog."

"Still, it's not that impressive."

"You never know," she said, shrugging one shoulder. "This might be the day it takes on a form. Go on, then. Let me watch and learn."

"All right, you win. But don't be let down when nothing special happens."

He had been practising so much that producing a non-corporeal Patronus had become rather effortless, and the mist appeared instantly. Yet, something was different about it this time; it was bigger, and more complex than just a puff of light.

"That was the best one yet," Claire said. "Do it again."

"Claire, I don't-"

"You almost had it!" she exclaimed as she shook his arm. "Do it again!"

Her enthusiasm was contagious. He decided to sit down this time, choosing to be comfortable, and they parked themselves on a stone step near the door. Again, he summoned his happiest memory: the day Claire told him she knew he was a Werewolf, but loved him anyway. Hearing the girl he wanted so badly say she wanted him too, regardless of his condition, topped every happy memory to date. It showed him that even the darkest tunnels had a light at the end.

" _Expecto Patronum!"_ he called out, and Claire squealed in delight as, this time, the fog swirled into an animal. His eyes widened as the breath hitched in his chest, and then he squinted, trying to make out what it was.

"Is it a dog?" he asked. "Or is it a…." His stomach dropped.

"It's a wolf," she said, laughing. "It's a wolf!"

His throat tightened and he found it difficult to swallow as the wolf ran through the air and then fragmented into nothing. Pins and needles broke out on his skin.

"Oh, Remus! I knew you could do it! I can't believe it, how lovely!" She threw her arms round his neck and kissed his cheek, but he didn't crack a smile. "Why aren't you happy? That was incredible!"

He hopped up from the step and strode to the edge of the battlement. "It's a wolf. Of all the animals in the world, it's a bloody _wolf_."

"So?"

"Is that all I am?" he demanded. "Is there nothing more to me than this _disease?_ "

Claire approached him carefully and put a hand on his back, tilting her head to get a better view of his face. "Darling, don't be discouraged. Wolves are associated with brilliant traits, like loyalty and patience. Perhaps it has nothing to do with your condition."

"Be realistic. It has everything to do with it. It's practically broadcasting what I am to anyone who sees the bloody thing. No matter what I do, I can't escape it."

"But I'm sure there are wizards with wolf Patronuses who aren't Werewolves. No one who doesn't already know you will make the connection, that is, if there's a connection to speak of."

She was trying to make him feel better, but only an idiot would believe it was solely a coincidence in his case, and Claire was no idiot. Merlin, how eager he had been to see what animal his Patronus would be. He felt like a fool.

"I should have known better."

"Sweetheart," she said, taking his hand, "you cast a full, corporeal Patronus, which is an astounding feat. Let's focus on that, and not what animal it is. It could have been worse, you know."

"How do you reckon?"

"It might have been a rat." She shuddered violently. "Rats are foul."

He smiled to himself as Peter sprang to mind. "They're not so bad. They're meant to be really ambitious."

"And sneaky, and untrustworthy. Not to mention filthy. Wolves are far more respectable. In fact, there's a wolf in you that has nothing to with Lycanthropy. And he's wild, Remus." She kissed him below his ear. "And enigmatic, and unpredictable. You know what I'm talking about."

Her breath was warm against his skin, causing it to tingle. "All right, you have a point."

"Your condition is a part of you, but it's not all you are." Her hand trailed down his chest and rested on his abdomen. "You are many incredible things."

His mouth found hers as her hand drifted lower. He sucked in his breath, but didn't stop her.

"You're unpredictable yourself," he breathed, pushing a hand under her shirt. "And wild…"

She responded by kissing him harder, then said, "You're mine, Remus. Don't you forget it."

"Never," he groaned, feeling like he could cast a Patronus for every species of the animal kingdom. She always found a way to pull him from his self-pity. All thoughts of wolves were erased as he luxuriated in how good she made him feel, and not just physically. She treated him like there was nothing wrong with him, and that was his favourite feeling of all.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"We're two for two," said James as he pulled on a clean t-shirt to sleep in. "In this room anyway."

"Two for two in what?" Peter asked.

"Casting a corporeal Patronus. Or in your cases, any Patronus at all."

Sirius looked up from his crossword, feeling like he had been punched. It was clear James was only taking the piss, but he had hit a nerve this time.

"No one will ever accuse you of being humble," sneered Peter. He slammed his head down on his pillow and jerked the blanket over himself.

"Relax, Pete," said James. "I've no doubt you'll get it one of these days. Sirius on the other hand…"

"Shite," muttered Sirius, getting out of bed. "I forgot to brush my teeth." He hurried out of the room with his toothbrush, eager to escape the spotlight being shined on his incompetence. Footsteps trailed behind him, and as he opened the bathroom door, he glanced back, surprised and irritated to discover James had followed him. "What the hell, Prongs?"

"I need a wee."

Sirius went to a sink and began brushing, but James didn't go to the toilet. Instead, he leaned against the sink beside Sirius's, and crossed his arms.

"What do you want?" Sirius asked.

James shook his head several times as he stared at the floor. "What is your deal with this Patronus Charm?"

"I don't know what deal you're talking about."

"You're being weird about it. Like it's beneath you or something."

"What crap," Sirius retorted between mouth rinses.

"Crap? Really, mate? Because half the time I think you're having a laugh at our expense for trying."

Sirius couldn't believe how wrong he had it. "Hate to disappoint you, but that's not the case."

He wiped his mouth with a towel and tossed it down the laundry chute, but James beat him to the door.

"Then what is it?" he asked, blocking the way. "Why are you so against it? And don't give me that rubbish about it not being worth your time, because you barely needed to revise for N.E.W.T.s and you'll ace every one of them. You've had more time than most to learn the charm."

"I have plenty of time to learn to paint or sew as well, does that mean I should?"

"If they were useful in dire situations, then by all means. But they're not. Casting a Patronus is, mate. You want to join the resistance, you're going need to send messages."

"How do you know? Have you joined already?"

"Come on, Sirius, don't be like that. It's not like you… to not care about something like this. You're not an ordinary wizard, so I don't get why you refuse to try."

Sirius wanted to tell him that he had tried multiple times, and that every time he had failed. But James was the brother he had always wanted, and it mattered to Sirius what he thought of him. He couldn't bear it if James knew he was somehow not as extraordinary a wizard as he previously thought.

_Only the pure of heart_ … MacMillan had said, and despite it being only one reason a wizard might fail at the charm, it was the reason Sirius claimed for himself, because it fit the narrative instilled in him from birth that he was a broken child in need of "correcting." Logic had no place in his mind in moments like this. The love and acceptance he received from his friends and girlfriend, his own confidence in his magical abilities, his rejection of his parents' twisted ideals – these things were obscured as the past crept up, suffocating him. Growing up at 12 Grimmauld Place, engulfed by darkness and daily reminders that he was damaged beyond repair was enough to drain the virtuous feelings from anyone, and no matter how hard he tried to move beyond the shadow, it would inevitably find him again.

"I don't know," he replied, shrugging off the question. "It just doesn't interest me. If it did, I'd have done it by now. Not everyone cares about it, including me."

He waited, his breath held as James stared at him. Finally, James replied, "I don't believe a word you just said."

Sirius reached for the door knob. "Good night, Prongs."

"Is this something to do with… what your parents did to you?"

With clenched teeth, Sirius glared at him, a warning in his eyes that said not to go there.

"I said good _night_ , Prongs."

James turned himself away from the door and let Sirius go, slamming the door behind him. As Sirius climbed the stairs, he was aware his heart was pounding. _It's only James_ , he told himself, _and of course he knows you're hiding something._ But somehow that made it worse. They had always been magical equals; neither had ever felt inferior to the other, until now. The Patronus Charm was a badge of honour, one his friends would all earn in time. They were too brilliant not to. It was the line between average wizards and great ones. He couldn't believe he'd come so far only to fall short of their expectations, but as despair blurred everything, he couldn't see any other way.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Annabelle woke early the next morning to the sound of the cat scratching in its litter box, and she couldn't go back to sleep. She went to the bathroom to have a shower, and afterwards, when she finished brushing her teeth, she decided it was as good a time as any to practise casting a Patronus. Since it was Sunday and most students were sleeping in, the bathroom was empty, so she leaned against the sink and focused on her memory with all her might.

" _Expecto Patronum!_ " she chanted, but it lacked feeling, and _intention_ as Professor MacMillan had discussed.

Again, she tried it, and the result was the same as always, a lovely, but utterly frustrating mist. It billowed like a storm cloud and for a second she thought it might take on a form, but as usual, it did not. She didn't know what she was doing wrong.

"How do people do this in times of distress when I can't even do it in a bathroom?" she asked herself aloud. Maybe Sirius was right and it was a waste of time. She gathered her belongings and was about to leave, but she felt compelled to give it another shot. The bathroom was all hers, and she was weary of N.E.W.T. preparation at the moment. "One more try," she said.

The purpose of the charm was two-fold – to ward off Dementors and to send messages. She had read about Dementors, and while she doubted she would ever meet one face-to-face, she knew they sucked the happiness from anyone who was unfortunate enough to cross their path. Recollections of joy - treasures buried inside the soul - were the only way to combat them. Through her own experiences with loss, she imagined as best she could the sorrow one felt when a Dementor approached. The abject hopelessness after her grandfather passed, the gutting pain of abandonment, the dread she felt the night Sirius had been beaten, Rosie breaking the news that her illness was terminal, and Sirius telling her Fairfax was gone…

Tears filled her eyes, and reaching deep within, she fought the ache in her heart with memories - her small hand in her Grandfather's large, strong one as they hiked through Hampstead Heath to Parliament Hill, sledding down the same hill with Matthew in the winter, laughing herself to sleep with Lily and Alice, kissing Sirius for the first time and other "firsts" with him, and finally, being surrounded by her ecstatic teammates and the boy she loved most in the world after winning the Quidditch cup. No Dementor could steal these treasures from her, because they were a part of who she was.

The memories brought peace, and an overwhelming gratitude. Raising her wand, she held onto the feeling of pure happiness as they won their final match, and when in the midst of the celebration, Sirius kissed her long and hard on the lips. With every fibre of her being, she cried out, _"Expecto Patronum!"_

A silver light burst from her wand, and she shrieked as a gleaming bird appeared and winged its way up to the high ceiling. Her heart pounded as it swooped towards her, then faded into nothing. It had been a falcon, the same as her grandfather's.

She inhaled, trying to catch her breath. "I – I did it. I cast a full Patronus." A wild laugh burst from her, and she danced excitedly in a circle before grabbing her things and running upstairs to wake her roommates with the news.

"It's a falcon!" she announced as she burst into the room. "My Patronus is a falcon!"

Lily bolted upright, panic on her face. "Oh my god what happened!?"

"Did you hear what I said?"

Lily blinked a few times as she finished waking up. "No, but you nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"Something about a falcon," groaned Alice as she turned over in her bed.

"My Patronus! I did it! It's a falcon like my grandfather's!" She hopped onto her bed and jumped up and down before dropping to a seated position.

"Oh, I'm so happy for you," said Lily. "A wee bit jealous, but more happy than anything."

"If I can do it, you will definitely do it."

"Thanks, Annie. I hope so."

"I hope I can do it, as well," said Phyllis, who had sat up and was rubbing her eyes. "My sister says she'll help me practise this summer. I can't wait!"

Lorelei's bed gave a giant creak as she left it. She grabbed her dressing gown and her toiletries. "And I can't wait to have a room to myself without rude people waking me up every morning."

The door slammed shut without another word from her.

"Sorry," said Annabelle, realising not everyone would be as thrilled about her accomplishment as she was. "I wasn't thinking."

"It's all right," said Alice. "You were excited. It happens."

"It was almost time to wake up anyway," added Lily. "She'll get over it."

Phyllis pouted. "Her Patronus will probably be a wasp or a viper."

"Or a bear," said Annabelle, then did her best imitation of Lorelei snoring.

The girls' laughter filled the room, and Annabelle tried to soak up the moment, because in a week's time, they would be saying goodbye to these early mornings together. Living in such close quarters together for seven years with four other girls wasn't always easy, from dealing with grouchy moods to craving quiet and solitude, sharing a space was a test of character at times. It was easy to forget in those moments how comforting it was to always have friends close by, to know each other's habits so well they were expected, and to have grown up together, like sisters. But now Annabelle could only think of the good, and how she would always cherish this place and these girls for the years of friendship and security they provided, Lorelei as well in some strange way.

"I'm going to miss this," said Lily, as though reading her mind. "I know we'll still be together, but it's going to be different. Not that different is bad, it's just… I don't know."

"I do," said Alice.

"So do I," said Annabelle.

When they noticed each other's teary eyes, they started laughing again, but it was bittersweet laughter, as just underneath it was nostalgia, and saying goodbye to the life they knew so well.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

In the boys' dormitory, Sirius was awakened by the sound of James' voice. "Padfoot," he whispered.

Sirius rolled over to see a sliver of light peeking through where James' finger was holding back the curtain.

"Merlin, Prongs, what is it now?"

"Can we open this curtain?"

Sirius sat up, pulling the curtain back. "What."

James sat down on his own bed and the cat jumped into his lap. "I wanted to say… I'm sorry I was such a git last night. It's none of my business what you learn, or don't learn, in your spare time."

"Glad you finally came to your senses."

"Though I still think it's weird."

Sirius moved to speak, but James held up a hand as he removed the cat from his lap with the other. "No, it's none of my business. I'll leave it at that."

It was no surprise to Sirius that James would question him. They knew each other almost as well as they knew themselves. Again, Sirius felt the urge to explain, but couldn't. He didn't want to be seen as the broken, abused kid anymore.

"By the way," said James as he headed for the door. "You overslept."

"So what? It's Sunday."

"Are you mad? It's Monday. Charms N.E.W.T. in a half hour. See you there."

"Bugger!" The door closed and Sirius scrambled out of bed, grabbing his watch. When he saw the time, he exhaled in relief. It occurred to him James had been wearing pyjamas, and then he remembered the day before was Saturday. N.E.W.T.s were a whole twenty-four hours away.

"Tosser," he said under his breath, but laughed in spite of himself.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Annabelle made it downstairs before her friends that morning, including the boys for once. She was eager to tell Sirius her news, but as she waited, she reconsidered telling him at all. He was still so determined _not_ to cast a Patronus, and she didn't understand why. She had thought it was this "pure of heart" business MacMillan had talked about in class, but the professor had explained that being "pure of heart" didn't mean being perfect, because no one would ever cast one if that was the case. Sirius had to know that included him as well.

The very idea of Sirius Black refusing to take on one of the most advanced charms in existence was discomfiting to her, and until she figured out what was going on inside his mercurial head, she convinced herself her own Patronus news could wait. As she heard the boys descending the stairs, her delight over her achievement turned to anxiety.

"What's wrong?" Sirius asked as he strolled over to her.

She forced a smile as he pecked her on the lips. "Nothing."

As the other boys sat down by the fire, Sirius leaned against the back of the sofa with her. "Something's bothering you. Is it the Potions exam?"

"Eh, I reckon I'm knackered. Woke up before sunrise and couldn't fall back to sleep."

She racked her brain for a reason to pop back upstairs so she could tell her roommates to keep her Patronus a secret for the time being, but voices were heard from the girls' staircase, and Lily and Alice entered the room.

"Did you tell him?" asked Lily enthusiastically, completely missing the subtle signals Annabelle was sending with her facial expressions.

"Tell him what?" she asked, hoping she'd catch on.

"That you cast a Patronus, thicko!" barked Lorelei as she shoved past her roommates. "Or was it a lie?"

"You cast a Patronus?" Sirius asked her.

"Yes, and it wasn't a _lie_!" she shouted at Lorelei's back as she left the common room. In all her years of living with the brute, she had never wanted to slap her face as much as she did just then.

"That's great news," he said. It sounded perfunctory, like he was being polite. "When did it happen?"

"This morning, in the bathroom."

"You were practising in the bathroom?" he asked with a chuckle.

"I had the place to myself so I thought why not."

"Can you believe it?" asked Alice. "Time to start taking wagers on who'll be next!"

"I'll put my money on Lily," said Sirius.

"Thanks, mate," said Peter, rising with the rest of the boys. "I wouldn't put my money on you either."

Sirius ran a hand over his face. "Which would be wise considering I don't plan to cast one."

"At least I'm trying," muttered Peter, storming off ahead of everyone else.

"Congrats, Annie," said James. "What was it?"

"A falcon."

"Well done," said Remus. "What a cool Patronus."

"Thank you." She glanced cautiously at Sirius.

"Are you coming?" James asked them.

"We'll join you in minute," said Sirius.

James nodded, looking back at them suspiciously as he headed to breakfast with the others.

When they were gone, Sirius asked, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I did tell you."

"Lorelei told me."

"What difference does it make? I would have told you eventually. Now aren't you hungry? Let's go to breakfast."

Sirius stared down at the rug, his shoulders slightly stooped as he pinched his lower lip. Annabelle wanted to be inside his head, if only help her know what to say.

"What is it, Sirius?" she asked softly.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because… I- I don't know," she hedged, avoiding eye contact with him. "Perhaps because I didn't think you'd be interested."

"That's not true. I'm proud of you. How could I be anything else?"

"But you said it's a waste of time."

"Of _my_ time, but that doesn't mean I can't be impressed with your accomplishment. You're quite talented, Annie. You can do anything when you set your mind to it."

She slipped her arms round his waist and hugged him. When he kissed her head, an ache clawed in her chest. She had a hunch his resistance to learn the charm had something to do with his past; it was from where most of his pain and frustration stemmed. Forcing him to talk about it felt cruel, but not doing anything to help ease his pain felt cruel as well.

"I love you," she reminded him.

"And I love you. You don't have to hide things from me."

"Just as you don't have to hide things from me."

He smiled as he took her hand and led her to the portrait hole, and they descended the stairs in silence. She resisted the temptation to pry further.

"A falcon," he said, breaking the tension. "Your granddad would be proud."

Despite feeling defeated, she smiled. "So he would."

"You can name it Feathers. Or better yet, _Talons_. Sounds more dangerous… like you."

"I'm hardly dangerous."

"I can think of several people who might disagree with you. You do know that falcons are hunters, yeah?"

She wiggled her eyebrows at him. "You'd better watch out then, because it's time for breakfast and you look delicious."

Sirius erupted with an unexpected, but sincere laugh, and so as not to spoil his mood, she let him lead the conversation into more comfortable territory. Of course, it became all she could think about throughout the day. Succeeding at magic came naturally to him, and competition often drove him, so there was no doubt in her mind that he wanted to cast the charm. However, something was in his way, and he was intent on keeping it to himself.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Later that evening, as they were exiting a final review session for Charms, James caught up to Annabelle in the corridor. Lily had stayed behind with Remus, Alice, and Johnny B. to help Professor Flitwick prepare for the test, and normally he would have as well, being head boy and all, but he had to have a word with Annabelle when he got the chance. She was walking fast, her Potions book likely calling to her, but it was now or never. Glancing behind him to make sure Sirius was still absorbed in his conversation with Peter and Caradoc about memory charms, he fell into step beside her.

"This thing with Sirius," he whispered, causing her to startle. "Merlin, you're jumpy."

"Sorry, I wasn't expecting to hear your voice in my ear. What thing?"

"This stubborn objection to casting a you-know-what."

"Ah, yes. That thing."

"Has he talked about it with you?"

"No, he hasn't, except to tell me it's a waste of his time. Why? Has he mentioned it to you?"

"I tried to get it out of him last night."

"And?"

"More of the same… It's starting to piss me off. He's being ridiculous. It's just a bloody charm, for Merlin's sake."

"Maybe he's afraid his Patronus will be the same as his father's."

"His father couldn't cast a Patronus to save his life. Neither could his mother."

"Well whatever the problem is, I don't think we should push the issue. Not with N.E.W.T.s starting tomorrow."

"I just hate to see him waste his talent."

"So do I, but we can't force him to try. You know he hates conforming. Maybe that's it."

"It's possible, but perhaps if _you_ tried talking to him, he might be -" The boys caught up to them, and James abruptly changed the subject. "You're absolutely off your rocker, O'Neill. Only a complete nutter would turn down the opportunity to play professional Quidditch."

"This again?" said Sirius.

Annabelle played along. "Yes, as usual, it's let's pick on Annabelle until she loves Quidditch as much as the rest of us."

"Well, has it worked?" Sirius asked.

"No, but I do like it better than I used to, and I have you lot to thank for that."

"So, wait," said Peter. "You would turn down a pro team to be a Magical Social Worker?"

"Yes. Now this hypothetical conversation needs to end." She linked arms with Sirius. "So, darling, ready to ace this test tomorrow?"

"I could pass it in my sleep."

"With your hands tied behind your back," added James.

"Whilst drunk," Caradoc chimed in.

"With your head chopped off," said Peter.

The boys' eyes lit up as they exchanged glances, and after a pause, they fell into fits of laughter. Peter smiled proudly, but with a hint of uncertainty as well; he clearly didn't know if they were laughing with him or at him. Annabelle had a feeling it was a bit of both, but if she had to choose, she'd pick the latter.

"Well, I for one cannot pass it in my sleep," she said, "with my hands tied behind my back, whilst drunk, or without a head. I'm going to revise a bit more then try to get some sleep."

When they reached the common room, she kissed Sirius goodnight. "Wish me luck, Padfoot."

"You don't need luck. You have skill, my love. More than most."

There was a familiar bleakness in his eyes that betrayed the gentle smile he wore, and she wanted ask him about it, but she had a feeling that calling attention to it would only trouble him more. _Wait until N.E.W.T.s are over,_ she told herself. Rattling him before the most important exams of their school careers seemed like a rotten thing to do.

"You're going to do brilliantly," she told him instead. "As always."

He kissed her forehead and squeezed her tight, and she held on, not wanting to let go.

"Good night, Annie. See you in the morning."

She kissed him once more, and they parted ways. Upstairs, she sat down with her notes, but her mind kept wandering to those haunted eyes and the countless internal demons behind them.

When Lily and Alice returned to the room, she decided to put her notes away and go to sleep, confident she would do well on the test. Charms was her best subject, after all. To think, she would never again watch Flitwick charm an object to dance across his desk, or sit beside Sirius in Potions, his knee or foot nudging hers whenever he was bored. She would never again send notes across a classroom to Lily and Alice, or witness McGonagall quiet a class of rowdy students with one stern look. All the little things she had taken for granted, were the very things she would look back on and smile.

How was it these familiar things were already in the past?

 


	25. His to Keep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, everyone, but was on holiday/vacation. This chapter has been done for weeks, but finding time to edit it has been a trial, and it required a LOT of editing. Reviews would be lovely!
> 
> Next chapter will definitely be the last!
> 
> FYI - "School's Out for Summer" is a 1972 song by Alice Cooper.

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

_Each has his past shut in him like the leaves of a book known to him by heart_

_and his friends can only read the title._

_~Virginia Woolf_

_.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-._

By Friday morning, only one N.E.W.T. remained to be taken. The Potions test was scheduled for ten o'clock, and Annabelle felt as ill as she had before her first Quidditch match.

"Are you going to be sick?" Lily asked, watching her as she clutched her pillow to her stomach. She was trying to recall the ingredients to Skele-Gro potion, but her mind had gone blank.

"It's happening again! I can't remember anything!"

"Annie…don't do this to yourself."

"Why am I taking this test? I'll be lucky to score a mark of Dreadful! I'm so – so _stupid_ to think I'd do any better!"

Alice and Lily knelt in front of her. "Breathe, Annie," said Alice, taking her hand. "You must calm yourself. Getting worked up won't help."

"If you relax," said Lily, "it will all come back to you. You know this stuff, I promise."

"It doesn't really matter, does it?" asked Annabelle, desperation in her eyes. "It's only one N.E.W.T. So what if I fail? I don't need a Potions N.E.W.T. to work for the Department of Social Welfare."

"See? An excellent reason not to worry," agreed Alice. "Instead, you're taking the test as a challenge to yourself. That's all."

"Or I could skip it."

Lily gave her a stern look. "Annie. You have worked too hard to quit now. Come on, get up. You're going to have some tea and porridge. Then you will march into that room, and you will push through to the best of your ability, yeah?"

Annabelle could barely speak. "Y- yes. Yes. I will. I should. I must."

"For yourself," said Alice.

"For myself."

Lily tugged at her hand. "Come, let's go."

"Yes," she said, nodding repeatedly. "Let's."

"It's only one test," said Alice in a soothing tone. "It's nothing more."

Annabelle took a deep breath and stood up. Rolling her neck, she said, "I'm ready. Sort of."

The boys were waiting downstairs, playing a game of catch the Snitch. Caradoc almost knocked Alice over diving for it.

"Merlin, Doc, be careful! I'd like to not be in the hospital wing when the exam is taking place."

Annabelle looked at the boys in awe. "I don't get it."

"What don't you get?" asked Sirius as he swung an arm round her neck and pulled her close.

"How you can be playing at a time like this."

Sirius laughed. "At a time like this? You make it sound like we're about to go into battle."

"Here," said James, handing her the now motionless Snitch. "For luck. Keep it in your pocket."

"But… you don't want it?"

With a smirk, he replied, "I don't need it."

Sirius chuckled arrogantly, but when he noticed her worried eyes, he stopped. "You don't need it either, Annie. You've revised and practised for this test more than anyone."

"Perhaps, but I think I'll keep it with me anyway."

"You're going to do fine," he whispered in her ear. "You'll see."

But she wasn't so sure. Potions had been a thorn in her side from the beginning, and this test was the final roadblock to freedom. Or maybe she was making a big deal out of nothing. Either way, she couldn't wait for it to be finished.

It was the longest test by far, starting with a written portion that consumed at least two rolls of parchment. Her brain ached almost as much as her hand from all the writing, which included an essay explaining why certain ingredients should never be mixed. She did her best, and when she finished, her brain was mush.

Thankfully, they had a break for lunch where they quizzed each other on the most difficult potions they had learned over the years. There was nothing more to be done, and when the time came, they reported to the Potions lab for the second, and final part of the test.

"After this, we're free," Sirius whispered to her, giving her side a poke as they entered the room.

She jumped slightly, but did not poke him back; she was too tense to move. He reported to his work station, but looked back to wink at her as he went. Inhaling deeply, she found her own work station and settled in, her limbs as stiff and heavy as tree branches.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Four gruelling hours and several advanced potions later, their time was up, and she exited the lab feeling as though she'd just swum the English Channel.

"Is it really over?" she asked as they walked down the corridor, her hair sticking to the sweat on her neck.

"It's really over," Sirius said has he lifted her from behind and spun her round, then he sang, _"School's out for summer!"_

James and Remus chimed in at the top of their lungs. " _School's out forever!"_

"Not so fast," said Lily. "We still have the awards ceremony tomorrow evening."

"And we still have to get our marks," muttered Annabelle.

"Was it as awful as you thought it would be?" James asked Annabelle as she handed his lucky Snitch back to him.

"Yes. But it's done. I took the bleeding test."

"And you lived to tell the tale," said Alice.

"And I'm sure you did better than you think," encouraged Sirius. "You always do."

"I'm not so sure. It's all a blur right now."

Lily draped an arm round her shoulder. "Well, I'm proud of you, Annie. You faced your fears, and you took the Potions N.E.W.T. Now all that hard work won't have been for naught."

"Let's hope."

As they emerged from the dungeon into the cloisters, the late afternoon sun warmed their faces, and Annabelle sighed. Released from her anxiety, her thoughts shifted to packing, and saying goodbye to Hogwarts.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The mood at dinner that evening was celebratory, as stress over N.E.W.T.s became a memory, and the knowledge that new lives awaited them became a reality. Voldemort was the last thing on their minds as they talked of their plans for summer.

"Fairfax's Mary works in real estate. I say we contact her," suggested James.

"That's right," said Sirius. "I'd almost forgot."

"Maybe she can get us a deal," said Peter, who was shovelling food into his mouth as he spoke.

Johnny B. wrinkled his nose. "Take it easy. The food's already dead. It's not going anywhere."

Peter swallowed in a massive gulp. "I know I'm not getting food like this when I live with these savages, so I have to get my fill now."

"What are you talking about?" asked Remus. "I could cook the lot of you under the table."

Sirius and James froze. "Does that mean…" Sirius trailed off, his eyebrows raised.

"Yes, but –" He paused as his mates erupted in cheers.

"We knew you'd come round," said James.

" _But,_ " Remus went on, "not until I know I have a paying job lined up. I'm not about to live off my mates' inheritances."

"Why not?" asked Sirius.

"Because, it wouldn't feel right."

"You'll get the newspaper job," said Lily. "I have no doubt."

Remus smiled. "I hope you're right. And you lot better not make a mess of the place all the time, because I'm not going to be your house-elf, cleaning up after you and whatnot."

"Yes, dad," said Peter.

After dinner, they put on jumpers, grabbed some blankets, and went out to the lake. As the sun set behind the forest, they laid on their backs and watched the sky fade from pink to purple. Other students were milling about as well, and magical sparklers could be seen dotting the grounds. Laughter carried on the breeze and Lily reached over and took James' hand.

"It's so beautiful," she said.

"That it is," agreed James.

"Add this to the list of things I'll miss about Hogwarts," said Alice.

As everyone chimed in with what they would miss, Sirius stared into the sky, watching as the first stars came into view. Soon, the constellations Andromeda, Cygnus, and Cassiopeia appeared, and it didn't take long to for him to spot the stars Arcturus and Regulus, flickering like candles in the heavens. His own namesake wouldn't be seen again until winter, which was when his father's namesake became visible as well. It was the time of year he did his best to avoid looking up, but in London he didn't have to bother, because the light pollution made the stars disappear. He preferred it that way.

He chose to focus on Polaris, the brightest star in Ursa Minor, located beneath the sprawling dragon of the Draco constellation. As a child, he would envision the dragon swallowing all the stars, except for those of Andromeda and himself, and sometimes Regulus if he was feeling particularly compassionate. In his mind, Orion would fight back, futilely swinging his club at the dragon, but the dragon would decimate them all. It was a recurring daydream, a way to centre himself after the more brutal run-ins with his father. Sadly, it no longer placated him.

The sound of James' voice calling out the Patronus incantation jarred him from his thoughts. A silver stag appeared by the water's edge, paced a few feet, and faded away. It was incredible.

"Your turn, Moony," said James.

"No thank you."

"Not even in front of us?" asked James. "Your lifelong mates?"

Remus sighed. "Fine, fine."

Again, that bloody incantation, and a dazzling wolf scampered towards the forest before evaporating.

"Brilliant," said James. "Alice's turn."

Sirius couldn't believe James was doing this. He sat up on his elbows, tempted to leave, but not wanting to call attention to himself. A heron streaked from Alice's wand, flying toward the lake.

"Amazing, Alice!" said Lily.

He felt Annabelle's hand softly cover his, but he didn't move. He couldn't.

"Annie's turn," said James.

"No, no," she protested. "I only did it once. Don't think I'll have the same luck twice."

"The more you do it the easier it becomes," said Alice. "Try it."

Annabelle turned to Sirius, her brows knitted.

He smiled at her. "I'd love to see it."

"Really?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I?"

She lay back, raised her arm, and spoke the incantation. And there it was, a luminous falcon, soaring across the ceiling of stars.

"Talons," he said softly. "Almost as beautiful as the caster herself."

"Annie-bird!" Johnny B. called to her.

"Cloudy B.!" she replied, giggling.

As Johnny B. cast his cloud, Annabelle whispered to Sirius, "Are you sure you don't want to give it a go?"

"I'm sure. _Please_ , stop questioning me on this."

He had been unintentionally sharp with her, and she peered at him, but he kept his gaze on the dark lake.

"Time for Lily to give it a try!" announced Alice.

"No, not tonight," she said.

"It's just a charm, Lil," James said, his eyes darting briefly to Sirius. "It's not the end of the world if you can't do it."

"I know… oh all right. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you my cloud." She closed her eyes, and after a moment, she enthusiastically chanted, "Expecto Patronum!"

An audible gasp escaped her, and everyone stared, wide-eyed, as the cloud grew ears and legs, and gracefully dipped its mouth to the water.

"Oh my Merlin!" she cried out, her hand over her mouth. A few seconds later, it was gone, and she lay back down with her hand over her heart. "Did that really happen?"

"It did," said James, his face revealing his astonishment. "And it was – it was-"

"A doe," she finished for him.

At the same time, they turned their heads to each other.

"Awwww," Johnny B. crooned. "That was like a song by Destiny Adorabella!"

"Somebody pass me a handkerchief," Caradoc sniffled, pretending to cry.

"You did it!" cried Annabelle, and as everyone congratulated Lily, Sirius' heart pounded. He wanted to be happy for all of them, but instead he was envious, and not because they had cast the charm, but because they were unspoiled, and therefore worthy. When James moved to Caradoc, he decided to remove himself from the situation before James could call attention to him next. He'd thought his best friend understood, but apparently he didn't. James actually believed he was capable.

He whispered to Annabelle, "I'm heading in. Want to start packing now so I'm not stuck with it all day tomorrow."

"But, we'll all be packing tomorrow. Please don't leave."

"Annie – I…" He cleared his throat, hoping to sound as natural as possible. "This isn't for me. You stay and have fun. I'll see you before you go to bed."

He got up and stalked towards the castle, not wanting to see another burst of silver light. He didn't want to see another Patronus again as long as he lived.

"Padfoot, where're you going?" called James.

"Loo!" he called back. It was less suspicious than what he had told Annabelle. He threw in a "see you inside" as a way of informing him that he would not be returning.

When he reached the courtyard, he allowed himself a deep breath, but a voice spoke from behind him.

"Sirius, please, what is the matter?"

His jaw clenched as Annabelle caught up to him, and he picked up his pace. Other students didn't need to hear his personal business.

"Go back, Annie. I'm fine."

"Then why are you leaving?"

"I can't - I mean I'm not about to cast a Patronus tonight, so I might as well go back the room and get started on packing."

"You were about to say you _can't_ cast a Patronus."

"No, I wasn't."

"You said, 'I can't.' I heard you."

"Poor word choice."

They reached the cloisters, but she wasn't turning back. "How do you know you can't? Have you tried? No. You haven't. I wish you could hear yourself-"

He whipped about, his eyes ablaze. "Don't keep doing this, Annie. _Please_. Just stop it and go back."

Her brows furrowed with hurt, and he felt sick, like every connection he'd formed over the last seven years was fraying…falling apart at the seams. He could only pass as a brave, lion-hearted Gryffindor for so long before his ancestry managed to reveal itself in him. Patronuses didn't exist in the Black family as far as he knew; the darkness ran too deep, and he was apparently no exception. What was it his brother had said to him once? _It doesn't matter what house you're in, you'll always be a Black._ It was meant as a comfort when Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor, but instead it chilled him to the bone.

He turned away from her and walked, but he could hear her behind him, her footfalls on the stone floor echoing through the arches. He made his way up a flight of stairs, the torchlight casting their shadows across the walls. Annabelle's followed his.

On the next floor, he turned down an empty corridor and stopped walking, but didn't turn round. "Please, leave me alone. I want to be alone."

"No."

For the second time, he turned abruptly, and his heart clenched as she flinched. It was the same reaction he'd had to his father and mother more times than he could count.

"Don't you see?" he whispered, his voice faltering. "I'm never going to be able to cast a Patronus."

"And there's nothing wrong with that. Lots of wizards can't. But why do you believe you're unable?"

"Why is it so important to you that I cast a bloody Patronus?" he demanded angrily. "Will I no longer make the cut if I don't? You'll trade me in for a better wizard?"

Her face went slack. "Please tell me you're joking."

"You didn't answer the question."

"For your information," she began, tears filling her eyes, "I could give _fuck all_ if you cast a Patronus! I admire your abilities, yes, but I _love_ you, and you had better let that sink in, because I never want you to paint me as some superficial hag ever again!"

"Then why do you care so much that I haven't done it?"

"Because I know you, and you would never forgo something like this for no good reason. James knows it as well!"

"You and James are talking about me behind my back now?"

"We know there's something going on in that hard head of yours that you're not telling us, and whatever it is, it's causing you pain. What is it Sirius? What? Did you cast one already and it's something embarrassing to you, like a hedgehog or a poodle?"

Sirius scoffed bitterly, waving her off, but she didn't relent.

"Or is it that you're afraid to fail, so you won't try? Is that it?"

His eyes flashed with anger. "What difference does it make to you?!"

"Because when _you_ hurt, _I_ hurt!"

He rested his head in his hands and turned toward the wall, his long, black hair obscuring his face. Neither of them spoke for a moment, and he steadied himself.

"I have tried," he admitted quietly, turning toward her, but unable to look her in the eye. "A few times, actually, but… it wasn't going to happen."

"But it takes more than a few attempts to get it. Why did you give up?"

"Too many bad memories getting in the way. No one in my family can cast one. Not even Andromeda." He crossed his arms over himself. "Maybe the damage runs too deep."

"I don't see the connection. You're nothing like your fam-" She stopped, her eyes widening. "It's just as I suspected from the start," she said, her words strained. "You've convinced yourself you're somehow ruined because of who you come from. You've got this "pure of heart" requirement all wrong!"

He bit the inside of his lower lip, wishing he could crawl out of his own skin. "I don't want to talk about this."

"I'm right, aren't I?" When he stared intently at the floor instead of answering her, she asked, "Why can't I make you understand there's nothing wrong with you?"

He shook his head, wanting desperately for her to go back outside. "Let's not dwell on it." He linked his arm with hers and led her to the staircase. "Go outside and have fun. You've certainly earned it."

She pulled her arm away. "Are you coming with me?"

"Why?" he snapped. "So James can humiliate me by saying it's my turn, when he knows full well I can't do it? So he can reveal me for the failure I apparently am?"

" _Failure_? Sirius, do you hear yourself? Perhaps he could have been more sensitive, but he was likely trying to encourage you. He's confused as well, and he hates seeing you suffer in silence."

"Well, there are limits to what I can do. I'm sorry I'm not who you thought I was, but it was bound to happen eventually…"

"You think people only value you for your magic? Because that is absurd. Or is it that _you_ only value yourself for your magic? The one time something is difficult for you, you decide you're tainted and destined to fail. What can I do to make you see you're wrong? How can I put an end to this power your parents still hold over you?"

"Please, Annie," he begged, "I'm drowning here. Just – drop the issue already, _please."_

"But, I- I'm throwing you a lifeline and you're too stubborn to take it!"

At the moment, he didn't feel like being saved. He was dead weight, pulling her under with him, and if she was wise, she would let him drown.

"I _need_ you to leave me alone, Annie. Go outside with everyone else! You deserve to relax and celebrate, and I don't want to take that away from you. Go!"

She glared at him, yet he couldn't bring himself to yield to her. Better for her to learn what he was now before she made the mistake of moving in with him.

"You are so good at beating yourself up," she said, distraught. "It's your first answer to every difficult situation. You're grand one minute, and the next it's as though you agree with your parents' opinion of you, and that you deserve to be punished. And I don't understand why you choose, time and time again, to believe them over me!"

He didn't have an answer for her, because he didn't understand either. All he knew was despair had become second nature to him, and falling into it was as easy as stumbling into a hole, a deep, sorrowful hole he couldn't seem to avoid no matter how hard he tried. There was a strange security in it, as this feeling had been a frequent visitor throughout his life. Other pain couldn't touch him when he was inside this cavernous place; nothing and no one could hurt him again.

She stared at him, her pleading eyes turning angry. "If you won't talk to me," she retorted tremulously, tears streaking her pink cheeks, "and I mean really talk to me, then I'm going to bed. Good _night_."

And with that, she stomped up the stairs.

"Don't Annie, please… not like this…"

The only reply was her pounding feet growing more distant. He pressed his hand to his forehead and leaned back against the wall. Annabelle had finally had enough of him, and the debris that had followed him into her life.

He was about to lose everything, and all because of a bloody charm. Everything she had said about him agreeing with his parents' opinion of him and being good at beating himself up was muddled in his brain, making him feel weak. He wanted out of his head, his past, and what looked to be a murky, lonely future. He slid down the wall to a seated position, wishing he could stop thinking altogether.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Black?" Professor MacMillan asked as he stepped out of his classroom. Sirius startled.

"Em, no sir," he said, standing up. "Sorry to disturb you."

The professor strolled toward him with his hands clasped behind his back. He was not wearing robes, but regular brown trousers and a white shirt with the cuffs rolled messily to his elbows. It always struck Sirius as out of place when he saw professors in muggle clothing, mainly because they were adults, and adult wizards often wore robes, no matter what their vocation. With professors it was even more disturbing, like the time they saw Flitwick in his red striped pyjamas when he came to break up a duel in the middle of the night. His pyjamas alone had stopped the fight, the boys' adolescent eyes going round with equal parts discomfort and delight.

"You didn't disturb me," said MacMillan but I couldn't help overhearing a portion of your conversation just now."

_Great_ , Sirius thought. He was about to get told off by a professor on his second to last night at school.

"I didn't mean to be in the corridors, sir. Was returning to my dormitory."

"I said you didn't disturb me."

Sirius blinked in confusion. "Sorry, sir?"

"You were discussing your reasons for not being able to cast a Patronus. And I feel it's my duty as your professor to inform you of your error."

"My error?"

"You were wrong. No amount of bad memories or experiences can stop a good person from casting a Patronus."

Sirius' defences went up. "Then I must not be a good person," he sneered as he turned toward the stairs.

"But you are," MacMillan said, and Sirius stopped, his hand on the railing. "I can't speak for the rest of your family, but your cousin Andromeda never cast a Patronus because she was too busy snogging Ted Tonks in the Quidditch stands to bother."

Sirius narrowed his eyes. "Watch how you talk about my cousin."

MacMillan laughed irreverently. "Ted was my friend, as was Andromeda once they got together. We're still friends to this day. She could have done it if she'd set her mind to it… just as you could."

"I've tried. Or did you miss that part of my _private_ conversation?"

"No, I didn't miss it. Perhaps you truly are one of the many people who aren't able to do it. How often did you practise?"

"Three or four times."

"A week? A day?"

"No, since September."

The professor shot him a disappointed look. "Sorry to break it to you, but three or four times is not going to yield results, even for a wizard as skilled as yourself. But perhaps you're going about it wrong. Do you have a moment?"

"For what?"

"I'd like to work with you. Mind you, I haven't got long. My wife was none too pleased when I messaged her at six o'clock that I'd be staying late."

With an eye-roll, Sirius droned, "And of course your message was sent by Patronus."

"Ding ding ding! You win the prize," he said as he held the door to his classroom open. "Please, step into my lair."

Sirius begrudgingly entered the room. The professor's desk was nearly clear, and a box sat on the floor beside it.

"You stayed late to clean out your desk? No wonder your wife was cross."

"I'm packing. Accepted a job as an instructor in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I'll be training new recruits."

"Congratulations. The curse is alive and well."

"Thank you. Couldn't break tradition, now could I?"

Sirius didn't laugh at the professor's attempt at humour. MacMillan was easily his favourite instructor that year, but at the moment, the man was getting on his last nerve.

"Have a seat, Mr. Black." He pulled over two chairs from some nearby desks and sat. Sirius sat down carefully, guarded as he listened to what the professor had to say. "You're one of my top students. Possibly _thee_ top student. So I must admit when you weren't eager to attack this charm head on, I wondered why. I'm glad I overheard your conversation, because I think I get the picture now. Tell me, when you go to your happy memory, what happens?"

"Em, my – my mind wanders," Sirius responded with a casual shrug. "I think of other things."

"Can you share the memory with me? If it's too personal, I'll understand."

"No… it's not too personal. My best mate's family had a birthday party for me last year. It meant a lot to me because I never had parties as a child. My parents weren't keen on them, or me for that matter –"

"Stop."

Sirius closed his mouth, surprised at the interruption.

"I see what you mean," MacMillan said. "The happy memory reminds you of unhappy times. I won't make you explain in detail –"

"Because it's hard to hear, I know, I lived it."

"No, because I know how you grew up. Andromeda is my friend, remember? Sometimes she spoke of her youngest cousin, how hopeful he was, how curious about the world, and how he loved to learn. How she wished she could protect you."

A lump rose in Sirius' throat, but he swallowed it, willing himself to remain indifferent.

"Many of her stories were about her own parents," MacMillan went on, "and her sisters. How her parents used them to shame her, labelling her a bad influence for straying from the family's creed. It was difficult for her to talk about, because she carried so much guilt."

"She didn't do anything to influence her sisters. Her entire family tried to break her - to ruin her life - and they were relentless. Why would she feel guilty?"

"Ah, because it's hard to convince people they're innocent when they've been told their whole lives they should be ashamed. Isn't it, Sirius?"

Every muscle in Sirius' body tensed as he met the professor's knowing eyes. It was the answer to Annabelle's question, but it was about ten minutes too late.

"Andy's one of the best people I know," Sirius defended his cousin in an attempt to turn the conversation safely away from himself. "She did nothing wrong."

In a quiet voice, the professor replied, "Neither did you."

The professor's gaze was unwavering, and tears warmed Sirius' eyes. However, bawling in front of the man was out of the question, so he fought the lump rising in his throat as hard as he could. MacMillan stood up, and pushed his chair aside.

"Stand up, lad. It's time to give this charm your strongest effort."

Trembling as he stood, Sirius pushed his own chair aside, took a deep, calming breath, and waited for instruction.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Annabelle was relieved to find her dorm room empty when she arrived.

"He's so stubborn and infuriating!" she cried out, smacking her hand against her bed post. "It's like he'd rather torment himself than believe me!"

"Who are you talking about?" asked Phyllis as she popped her head up from where she was on the floor, charming the dust bunnies from under her bed.

Annabelle jumped backwards with a screech. "Bloody fecking hell, Phyllis! You scared me half to death!"

"Oh, Annabelle, I'm so sorry. I thought you saw me here."

"What are you _doing?"_ Annabelle asked, still trying to get her wits about her.

"Cleaning up some as I pack."

"Oh, right. That makes sense." She moved to her bed and sat down, catching her breath. "Why aren't you outside with everyone else?"

"Eh, I was for a bit. I reckon I got bored."

"Caradoc's out there," said Annabelle, grinning when Phyllis blushed. "Did you see him?"

"No, but I heard him. Too dark to see him."

"Why didn't you say hello?"

"He was with his mates. I didn't want to intrude."

"Phyllis, you've lived in the same tower and shared classes with him and his mates for seven years. You wouldn't have been intruding on anyone."

Phyllis remained pensive as she went back to her task of cleaning under her bed. "But I'm not one of his mates. I mean, I am, but not like that."

"You fancy him, don't you?"

Phyllis shot her head up, and Annabelle was sure she would deny it, but she was surprised when Phyllis asked, "Is it that obvious?"

"Not to most people. At least not that I know of."

"Does… does _he_ know?"

Annabelle snickered. "He's as clueless as they come about stuff like that. Trust me, the only way he'd know is if you told him yourself."

"I could never. I mean, how embarrassing! He'd probably have a right laugh at me. And then everyone would know, and I'd be the joke of Gryffindor."

"Hold on, please. First of all, we wouldn't let anyone make a joke out of you. And second, _if_ he laughed, it would be nervous laughter, because he might think you're teasing him. And last, well… I think he fancies you too."

Phyllis snorted an awkward laugh. "And why would you think that?"

"Mainly because he goes all red in the cheeks when he talks to you. It's disgustingly sweet, actually." She looked at Phyllis, whose expression seemed doubtful. "Oh come on! You must have noticed! Merlin, you're the same as he is. Clueless."

A corner of Phyllis' mouth perked up. "Even if you're right, school's finished. I'll only see him if I'm lucky enough to run into him somewhere."

"Not if you ask him to keep in touch. You do have an owl at home, don't you?"

"Course I do."

"So use it. In fact, we can get together, and I'll make sure he's there."

"Like a set-up?"

"Exactly!"

"Now you're getting my hopes up," she said with a grin. "But what if you're wrong?"

"Then at least you won't have to spend the rest of your life wondering 'what if?'"

"All right. But don't forget about me. This is all I'll be able to think about now."

"You could always go out to the lake and tell him how you feel."

"No no no. I couldn't. I just couldn't."

Annabelle giggled. "I wouldn't be able to either."

"By the way, who were you talking about when you came in?"

"Oh, em… Sirius."

"Is everything all right?"

She didn't want to betray him by telling Phyllis the details, so she downplayed the situation as best she could. "He's in a strop. It's like he'd rather… eh, I don't know. He's frustrating."

"Boys."

"Yes… boys."

What she would have said if she wasn't protecting him, was that he'd rather suffer in silence. Push her away. Reveal as little as possible. "It's gotten him this far," she mumbled to herself.

"Did you say something?" asked Phyllis.

A sudden awareness caused Annabelle's breath to hitch in her chest. Sirius was coping the only way he knew how. His suffering had always been in silence, because to express it had only provoked more abuse. His entire youth was spent being mistreated and misled by the very people he should have been able to trust the most, so for her to think he would trust anyone enough to freely share all of his inadequacies and fears so soon after being betrayed by his own flesh and blood, was expecting too much.

"I should have known better," she said.

"Pardon?" asked Phyllis.

"Nothing. I think I need to learn some patience, is all. And acceptance."

"That makes two of us."

The girls exchanged a smile, but inside, Annabelle wanted to go back in time and reverse the alienation her bad temper and demands had caused him. How dare she insist he bend to her will? It was what his parents had done to him his entire life, and now she had done it, as well. Wounds as deep as his needed time to heal, and love, not badgering and anger. Her stomach turned, and she began clearing out her nightstand, because she was too ashamed to do anything else. She was probably the last person he wanted to see at the moment, and she didn't blame him one bit.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

With MacMillan's guidance, Sirius had made six attempts to cast a Patronus. And he had failed six times. He leaned over, resting his hands on his knees.

"This is pointless," he said. "I don't have it in me."

"Oh come on, lad! You've only just begun! It's one of the most advanced charms in existence, and if you expected to get it in an hour, you were sorely mistaken."

"I can't focus."

"You have to push the distractions aside. Put them behind you. The distant past, the recent past, _all of it._ For one moment, forget you've ever been anything other than perfectly happy."

"But there's so much darkness in my head. Every time I close my eyes I see my father's face. I hear my mother's voice."

"It's their darkness, not yours. It was never yours."

Sirius wiped the sweat from his forehead, pacing a few steps. "But the anger… it's mine, and the pain… it's mine as well."

"So is your joy, because you created it for yourself. You _deserve_ it."

"Why does my head say otherwise?"

"Forget your head. Where do feel your happiness?"

"Where?"

"Yes, where? Where do you feel it? In your head?"

"No- I –" His hand went instinctively to his chest. "Here."

"Ah yes, your heart. You know, a dark wizard would have answered much differently."

"Why is that?"

"They don't operate with their hearts, of course."

"Of course," Sirius echoed hoarsely, shaken by the professor's words. In a moment of pure clarity, his notion that darkness was somehow inherited was disproven. Sirius felt everything in his heart – love, pain, sorrow, happiness – _everything_. He always had.

"But that is neither here nor there," the professor continued. "Focus with your heart, not your head. Whatever you want to keep, the most treasured moments of your life – all of it's there, protected, safe. Find that feeling. Close your eyes. Immerse yourself in it. Go on, tell me about this party, but not from your head. From your heart.

Sirius closed his eyes again, determination knitting his brow. "We were sitting round the table in the dining room, this big wooden table, with candles all over it, and my mates were joking and laughing, and there was a cake. James' mum had made it for me herself. My family stopped doing cakes when -"

"You're doing it again. You can't stand in your own shadow and wonder why it's dark!"

"I can't help it."

"You can! Stay in your heart! Pay attention to what makes you happy! Because Patronus or no, it's the key to everything in this life, and I'm sure you know, lad, that deep within, you're worthy."

Tears rolled down Sirius' cheeks, but his eyes remained closed. "They told me to make a wish. I remember holding my girlfriend's hand, how she smiled… the candles made her eyes sparkle… I knew she was happy that I was happy. I felt like I mattered to everyone in that room, but even better, they mattered to _me_. It was the happiest I've ever been, and I thought perhaps my life could be good, or maybe even great, because I wasn't alone after all."

"Stop talking now, but stay in that place, hold that feeling in your heart and let it drench you."

Sirius did as he was told, holding tight to what he felt in his heart when Annabelle had smiled at him. The love in her eyes… it was for him.

"When you're ready, use the incantation to let the feeling ring out from deep inside and fill the air around you. Let it burst from your chest and fill the room! Are you ready, Sirius?"

Sirius nodded, the tears coming fast.

"Go on, give it everything you've got!"

Sirius raised his wand and took a deep breath.

"Do it, Sirius!"

_"_ _Expecto Patronum!"_

He felt it before he saw it - peace like a salve, soothing him from the inside out. He opened his eyes to see the mist billowing before him, watching as it gradually dissipated to nothing.

"Congratulations, Sirius. You just cast a non-corporeal Patronus."

Sirius blinked in awe, but there was no time to revel in his accomplishment, or in the knowledge that after everything his parents put him through, his heart was still intact, because Professor MacMillan wasn't through with him.

"Again."

And again, he did it, and the mist was bigger and brighter. Slipping into the memory became easier with each attempt, which made the results increasingly spectacular. Several more attempts and the mist became fuller, brighter, and somehow more complex.

"Come on, Sirius. It's in you. All you have to do it is let it out."

"Don't you have to get home?"

"My wife will understand. For this next try, go further. Hold nothing back. You're almost there!"

Sirius squeezed his eyes shut, and as soon as he called the light, the smiles, and the love to mind, nothing could diminish them. This joy was his to keep.

He inhaled and cried out, _"Expecto Patronum!"_

And then it happened - the mist flashed from his wand and a gleaming silver dog materialised and dashed about the room. With bright eyes, Sirius looked to Professor MacMillan, and the professor smiled.

"And that is how you cast a Patronus."

Sirius laughed through his tears as the dog faded away. "Thank you, Professor."

"I'm glad I could help. But if you will, do me a favour."

Sirius didn't need to think before answering. "Anything."

MacMillan strolled over to a desk near Sirius and took a seat on it. "It's time to stop using your past as your guide. From now on, let your heart lead you. Nothing else matters."

He held out a hand and Sirius shook it. "I will."

"Oh, and one more thing before you go. I think there's someone who might like to see your Patronus."

"If you mean, Annabelle, I don't think she'll be speaking to me again tonight, or ever…"

"Don't be so sure. Get ready. I have one more thing to teach you."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

There was a knock at the door of the girls' room, and Phyllis went to answer it.

"Hello," Opal Ross greeted them. "Just came to see if you wanted to go outside. Dumbledore's doing a fireworks show soon."

Phyllis clapped her hands together. "Fireworks! Come on, Annabelle. It's not every day we get to see Dumbledore's magic on such a grand scale."

"Maybe I'll join you later. I'd really like to get some packing done."

The sympathy in Phyllis' expression made Annabelle look away. As soon as the door closed, she collapsed on her bed, gutted that school was ending on such a wretched note. What if Sirius gave up on her, and wrote her off because there were some things he didn't want to feel, and she didn't know how to back off? What if he was perfect in his imperfection, and she was trying to fix someone who didn't need to be fixed so much as understood? Why couldn't she let him work through his past in his own time, instead of hers? No wonder he thought she wanted to trade him in for someone different. She was demanding he be someone he wasn't ready to be yet.

And if he left her, all their plans for the future would be gone with him. Lily and Alice would be her roommates for only so long before they married James and Frank, and then she would be alone. She had never lived alone in her life, and wasn't sure she wanted to. An overwhelming need for a mother-figure filled her, but the only person that came to mind was Professor McGonagall, and she was currently busy wrapping up the school year. Annabelle hadn't felt this lost since she first entered Hogwarts, with no family or friends to speak of. Now she was ending where she started.

"I've come full circle," she said as her eyes burned with tears.

But it wasn't just the prospect of loneliness that hurt, it was thought of losing _him_. He had been the most unexpected surprise, and the best one to date. From a distance she had found him insufferable, but up close, she discovered he was as beautiful on the inside as he was on the outside, something he had yet to learn himself. She didn't want to be without him – without his playfulness and ingenuity, and even his melancholy, because as hard as it was to witness, it was part of him, and she loved him completely.

Too weak to lift her head from the pillow, she closed her eyes, her own melancholy weighing on her. Sleep would be grand, but she was wound too tightly to relax, her body curled into a tight ball as silent tears trickled into her hair.

"Annie," a voice said, and fully aware it was Sirius, her eyes shot open. A big silver dog glowed at her bedside, and a wave of terror shot through her. But then, it spoke again. "Come downstairs, please. I'm waiting for you."

The dog ran toward the closed door but disappeared before reaching it, and the hair stood up on the back of her neck. Then she leapt out of bed, not bothering to put on shoes or brush her hair, flung the door open, and flew down the stairs.

She burst into the common room, but no one was there, and as she turned to look for him, a massive "BOO!" sent her heart into her throat.

Screaming, she whipped about to find him at the foot of the girls' staircase, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets, a smile stretched across his face.

"You bleeding _arse_!" she scolded him. "What are you _like_?"

"I couldn't resist."

"Just… give me a moment to breathe," she said, both hands over her heart. "I don't know why I always fall for it."

"Neither do I, but I'm pleased you do."

Pushing her hair behind her ears, she leaned against the back of the sofa and glanced timidly at him. "So… you did it."

"So I did."

"And it's a dog no less. Just as I predicted."

"As it turns out, you were right… about everything. I reckon I just wasn't ready to accept it."

Fresh tears warmed her eyes. "I don't care about being right. I care about _you_. And I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to pressure you. I only hurt you more, and that was never my intention, I swear- I only wanted to help you, not add to your pain."

He pushed off the wall and stepped toward her, his arms open. A second later, he caught her as she threw her arms round his neck.

"Shhhh, love," he soothed her. "You've been right all along, whether you wanted to be or not. About my parents, about how they helped shape my opinion of myself, and how wrong they were."

"I never want to be like them, pushing you to change. I love you, just as you are, no matter what."

"No worries there. You couldn't be more different from my parents if you tried."

Her arms tightened around him, and they stood pressed together, unmoving but for the rise and fall of the breath in their chests. She almost laughed at her own foolishness – to think he would let her go so easily, but she couldn't help it. These last days of school had lent a feeling of finality to everything, as routine and familiarity gave way to upheaval and the unknown. But some things could withstand change, like friendship, and love. Eventually, her curiosity led her to loosen her grip and look up at him. His eyes were wet, and she ran her thumbs underneath them.

"I'm confused," she said. "How did you do it? I thought, I mean - you were convinced it wasn't possible. What changed?"

"Apparently Professor MacMillan wasn't convinced," he said as he took her hand, leading her to the sofa. "He was in his classroom and overheard us."

Annabelle's hand flew over her mouth. "He heard everything?"

"I think so. But he was really nice about it. Gave me some advice and worked with me a bit. Helped me get into the right frame of mind."

"And then it happened? Just like that?"

"No. It took some time, as I was rather resistant at first, but since he's a professor it was difficult to refuse his help, and I finally understood where I'd been going wrong."

"Go ahead," she said, eager to hear the details. "I'm listening."

He closed his eyes briefly, his lips set in a sad smile and her heart welled with regret.

"You don't have to explain," she said. "I shouldn't have asked."

"It's fine. I don't mind telling you. Although you've already figured out most of it."

As he told her about his fruitless attempts to cast the charm throughout the year, the fears about the state of his heart after growing up the way he did, and how MacMillan shed some light on the situation, he felt like he had turned a corner. The hole was still there, but he no longer felt compelled to idle near it, tempting it to swallow him. Regardless of whether or not he could cast a Patronus, his heart was urging him forward, promising him that the past was truly behind him.

"Something clicked," he finished. "I was the only one standing in my way."

Annabelle smiled, then kissed him gently on the cheek. He moved to return the gesture, aiming for her lips, but she held him off with a finger on his chin.

"And whose idea was it to frighten me with a message?"

"MacMillan's," he said with a chuckle. "It's a simple incantation – _Mitteractus_. Then you say the name of the person and the message. The Patronus fades away, and you're left to wonder if it actually worked."

"Oh, it worked. Merlin, you're unbelievable. You learnt how to cast a Patronus and send messages with it in what?" She glanced at the clock. "A little over ninety minutes?"

"Yes, but I had a lot of one-on-one help from an experienced defence instructor. Who else can say that?"

"Sirius. Ninety minutes. I'm quite sorry, but this is where I say I told you so."

"You did tell me, didn't you. Thank you for that, by the way. For believing in me."

She pressed her forehead to his, staring down at their clasped hands. "It's impossible not to believe in you."

"I'm going to be better Annie. From now on, I'll do whatever it takes to be free of them. For both of us."

"You can start by turning to me when it becomes too much for you. Reach for me before you fall."

"I should. But I fear I'll drag you down with me."

"You won't, I promise. I'll dig my heels in."

He gave a single nod, cautiously meeting her eyes. "All right, then. But don't forget, I'm here for you as well. Sometimes you hide things from me, for fear of my reaction."

"Like what?"

"Your fears of turning into your mum, Jaeger, Rosier's conversation with you, your Patronus… shall I go on?"

She gave him a sheepish half-smile. "No, that won't be necessary. I don't mean to hide things from you, but I know how you are, and I don't want to upset you, nor do I want you getting yourself arrested on my account."

"If you promise to tell me what, or _who's_ bothering you straightaway, then I promise not to get myself thrown in Azkaban over it. Does that sound fair?"

Annabelle giggled. "Yes, it does. We're officially adults now, so I reckon we should be straight with each other from the start."

"Slow down. We're not officially adults until Sunday when we step off that train for the last time."

"You're going to make me cry again."

He leaned in, a subtle grin on his lips. "No more tears."

Annabelle pulled his face the rest of the way to hers and kissed him. Since no one was in the common room, she didn't think twice about climbing onto his lap, but before they could get too carried away, the sound of fireworks redirected their attention to the window. Outside, bursts of colour illuminated the sky. Some took on shapes, others elaborate patterns, and even with the restricted view, Dumbledore's magic never ceased to amaze.

"What a show-off he is," teased Sirius.

Annabelle pecked him on the nose. "Says the show off."

"Now now. I'm nowhere near the show-off I used to be."

"I'll give you that," she said as she turned her eyes back to the glittering sky.

Sirius kept his gaze on her, the reflection of the fireworks in her eyes far more mesmerising than the real thing. He could have watched her all night. When she turned to him and smiled, he was still watching her, and with a tilt of her head and a shy grin, she signalled that he had been caught. As her lips touched his again, the portrait swung open, and Annabelle launched herself off his lap to the other end of the sofa, almost falling in the process. Sirius choked on his laughter.

A group of third year girls passed through, sending them wary looks and giggling their way to the stairs.

"Speaking of showing off," said Annabelle as the girls disappeared into the stairwell, "perhaps you could send a message to our friends. It'll scare living daylights out of them."

Sirius sent her a roguish smile. "That's a brilliant idea, but how about we both send one. I'll show you how."

"Count me in."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

James and Lily were walking back to the castle several paces in front of the others, having a quiet conversation about plans for after school finished.

"Wherever we end up, our flats must be close by," James insisted. "I want to be able to pop up the street to see you, no Flooing it halfway round London."

"We'll have to start looking as soon as possible. Who knows how long it will take?"

"In the meantime, do you think your mum and dad will allow you and Annie stay the night at mine sometimes? My dad will be there, and as you know we have loads of room."

"They might. I'm eighteen, and if Annie was with me, I don't think they'd be worried."

James grinned, and wrapped his arm round her shoulders, kissing her on the temple. "I wonder if we'll run into each other at the hospital often. It's going to be _weird_ , isn't it?"

"I'll be two floors below you, so I wouldn't count on it happening often. But we can have lunch together every-"

"Merlin's bollocks do you see what I'm seeing," James interrupted her, his eyes going round, but before she could answer, two Patronuses, a falcon and a dog materialised in front of them.

"Don't look so surprised," said the dog.

"He could do it in his sleep," said the falcon, "with his hands tied behind his back, whilst drunk, or without a head."

As the animals faded, James let out a laugh. "Why that _tosser_."

"You knew he could it," said Lily.

"Of course he could do it," said Johnny B. "What can't he do?"

As the others hurried toward the castle, eager to congratulate their friend, Peter hung back. He was out of breath, and a numbness settled over him. Yet again, he couldn't keep up with them, falling short of the mark as always. He'd been foolish to think Sirius was in the same boat, for once. Just one time, he'd like to be on even footing with his gifted mates, or be better than them at something besides chess, in which he was only ranked first because they refused to play. They gave him the victory there, like charity.

He trudged on into the courtyard, his lungs burning and his bitterness growing. Of course Sirius would cast a Patronus.

_Of course he would_.

 


	26. C'est la Vie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, readers, here we are, at the end of another story. Don't worry, there's another one coming, but it's going to be a while. I'm in the midst of an upheaval of sorts, lots of changes going on and much responsibility coming my way as far as work goes… so sadly I will not be able to write nearly as often as I'm used to. Once I get a good portion of the next story written, I will start posting it, because I don't want to have another gap as big as this one between chapters. I can't tell you when it will be, but it's going to take some time. Believe me, if I could spend all day writing, I would. :(
> 
> Also, please review, and if you enjoyed it, give it kudos it if you are so inclined. I send you my most heartfelt thanks for the support and encouragement I've received over the course of this story, and I hope you'll meet me at the next one. Follow me so you don't miss it!
> 
> -Carrie xx

 

 

_.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-._

_"Amidst the worldly comings and goings, observe how endings become beginnings."_

_\- Laozi (Lao Tzu)_

_.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-._

The Gryffindor seventh-years lined up outside Professor McGonagall's office the next morning, waiting to receive their N.E.W.T. results. Everyone was in good spirits, chatting and joking, eager to see how well they did, except for Annabelle, who hovered behind her friends, her forehead pressed into Sirius' back. Potions was her only concern – the other subjects gave her no trouble and she excelled in most of them, just as her mates did. But Potions… after all that work, only find she failed anyway? It would certainly put a damper on her last full day at Hogwarts.

McGonagall stood outside her door, the stack of parchment pieces dwindling as she passed them out. Lily was next, and McGonagall handed her results to her with a smile. "Well done, Miss Evans. You've made this school proud."

"Thank you, Professor," said Lily with a grin, then hurried a few feet away to check her marks. Her eyes lit up, and she rushed back to her friends to share her news.

Annabelle took the paper from her, not surprised to see "Outstanding" next to every subject.

"Of course," she said with a smile. "My outstanding friend."

"Yours will be outstanding, as well. Don't worry so much!"

Everyone's reports were coming back equally impressive, with a few "Exceeds Expectations" and "Acceptables" (Caradoc and Peter in Potions, Johnny B. in Defence against the Dark Arts) thrown into the mix. But no one failed a test, not a single one.

"I don't think I can look," Annabelle groaned as she took her parchment from McGonagall.

"Come now, Miss O'Neill, you did very well. I'll have you know you're quite talented. A bit more confidence in your abilities and little less worry, and you can overcome any obstacle."

"Thank you, Ma'am," she said, feeling a rush of gratitude towards the Professor.

Stepping aside, she was aware her friends were watching her. She took a deep breath and looked at her results.

"Outstanding" repeated itself down the page, ending with the most beautiful "Acceptable" she'd ever seen.

"I passed!" she cried out. "I passed Potions!"

"Yes! I knew it!" exclaimed Lily, rushing over to her. "What mark did you get?"

"'Acceptable,' but I'll take it."

"Of course you passed," said Sirius as he sauntered over to her. "Don't know why you're so surprised."

"I know, but it hasn't been easy for me. Thank goodness for the lucky Snitch."

He pecked her on the lips. "It wasn't the Snitch. It was your persistence, which is all the more reason to be proud."

She smiled shyly, and as everyone shared their results with each other, she held out her hand. "Right. Let's see that paper, clever clogs."

He handed her his parchment, and an entire column of Outstandings stared back her, the same as Lily's. She gave him back the paper and wrapped her arms round his waist. "Just as I expected. Underneath that cool exterior resides the cleverest little swot."

"A swot? Me? You must be joking." He gave a casual toss of his head, his eyes narrowed and his lips pursed. But then he laughed at himself. A butterfly swooped in Annabelle's stomach, and she pulled his face to hers and kissed him.

"Whatever you are, it's wonderful," she whispered.

He gazed dreamily at her. "Sneak out to secret tower later? One last time?"

"Sounds like a plan."

When everyone was finished comparing results and congratulating each other, they returned to their rooms to pack. The girls did anyway. The boys got bored and went out to the pitch to play one last Quidditch match with some other students, including Jacoby Ollivander, but Peter stayed behind to sulk over his "Acceptable" in Potions. It was a fun and carefree match for the most part, but a sense of sadness weighed on them, as it was the last time they would ever play an impromptu match at Hogwarts. Once it was over, they headed back to the castle.

"Let's take the secret passage," said James, as they reached the cloisters. "You know, for old time's sake."

"Can't," said Remus, who had done a spectacular job as Seeker during the match. "I promised Claire I'd meet her."

Johnny B. and Caradoc had already gone ahead, disappearing into a stairwell. After Remus left to meet Claire, James and Sirius looked at each other, and Sirius shrugged. "Let's go."

Once they reached the passage, they glanced about before ducking behind the tapestry. Laughing under their breath after Sirius tripped slightly, they made their way through, traveling by the light of James' wand.

"Has this passage shrunk?" asked James, doing his best to avoid hitting his head on the low ceiling.

"I don't think so. But we've grown."

"Ah yes, that must be it."

Sirius stopped abruptly as he batted away a spider web. "Can't say I'll miss having webs in my face."

"Shhh," whispered James, putting a hand on Sirius' shoulder and peering into the tight corridor.

"What?"

"Thought I heard voices."

"Maybe we're not the only ones who know about-" He stopped short, his brows furrowing. "I hear them. Sounds like Dumbledore."

"But why would he…" They listened closer.

"Don't know," said Sirius after a moment, "but it must be top secret information for him to be discussing it in here. Shall we have a listen?"

James put out his light. "'Course we should."

They inched further into the passage toward the voices. After rounding a corner, they approached a narrow stairwell. Words drifted down to them.

"They're part of his inner circle," said an unfamiliar voice. "If we get them, it will be a significant blow to him."

"We mustn't act hastily," said Dumbledore. "Their allies move in shadows, right under our noses, I'm afraid. The mission will fail if it's rushed, and more lives will be lost."

James and Sirius' mouths dropped open, but neither said a word, too eager to hear more.

"I know, but if we don't act soon, we may miss our chance completely."

"We can discuss it tonight at the meeting. Now you had better be on your way. The walls have ears, and we can't take unnecessary risks."

"Right. Tonight then."

The shuffling of footsteps and a flare of light appeared from above, and the voices were gone, the corridor once again drenched in darkness.

"Was that what I think it was?" asked James.

Sirius remembered that Lux, aka Marlene, had told them Dumbledore was aware of the resistance. But to think, he was also a part of it…

"Dumbledore's in the resistance, discussing top secret information in a secret passage?"

"Exactly," said James. "Maybe we should turn back, to avoid running into them."

Sirius' eyes didn't move from the staircase. "Yes, I reckon we should."

As James started walking, Sirius stayed rooted to the floor, his thoughts going wild.

"Are you coming?"

Sirius turned to him. "Now's our chance. We have to talk to him."

"What – now? You want to talk to him about the resistance not five minutes after we heard him conferring in secret?"

"No, not now then. But tonight. After the ceremony."

James sighed as he scrubbed a hand through his hair. "I don't know. He's going to know we heard him."

"Why would he?"

"Because how else would we know to ask him!"

"So what? What can he do? Expel us?" Sirius snorted a laugh, but James remained apprehensive.

"Are you sure…you know…that you want to do this?"

Sirius' smile faded. "Are you having second thoughts?"

"No, no I'm not, but I didn't think it would happen so soon… What I mean is… it seemed far away, like we had time to figure things out. I've got my training at St. Mungo's, and I don't know, I was thinking of…" He stopped to swallow, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment.

"Thinking of what?"

"Don't laugh."

"I won't, just tell me."

James eyed him cautiously before the words fell out of his mouth. "I was thinking of asking Lily to marry me."

Sirius' eyes went wide. " _What?!"_

"Why is that surprising?"

"It's not, but – talk about something that seemed far away. Crikey, marriage?"

"What difference does it make? I don't plan on breaking up with her, so?"

"But _marriage_?"

"I'm not asking her today. I want to wait until I can buy her a ring with my own money, not with my trust fund. Oh come on, like you've never thought about it."

"I have, and so has Annabelle, and we're both perfectly content to just not break up. No need to sprint down the bloody aisle."

James narrowed his eyes, but it didn't hide the hurt welling up in them. "Thanks a lot, mate, but I don't need your approval. And here I was, thinking of asking you to be my best man." He turned to go, but looked back and said, "By the way, I would never judge you for _not_ getting married."

"Wait! Prongs… come on. It's all right, I don't mind if you get married, yeah? It was unexpected, that's all. Didn't see it coming."

James stopped and rested against the wall, his arms crossed over himself. "You were rather condescending about it."

"Not really."

"Yes, you were."

"Fine. I was. But that's just my own hang-ups about marriage spilling over onto you. You know my parental role models didn't make it look all that appealing. Yours did. So I can see why you're ready for it."

"You actually think if you married Annie, you two would end up like your parents, hating each other?"

"No, of course not, but I don't need to marry her to prove how I feel about her."

"Is that what you think I'm doing?"

"No! For Merlin's sake, we're different when it comes to this stuff. You know what you're doing. You've both had happily married parents to show you how it's supposed to be."

James chuckled. "It's not that complicated, Sirius. If you want to be with someone for the rest of your life, a piece of paper isn't going to change anything."

Sirius swallowed hard. Marriage made him and Annabelle anxious, for reasons that had nothing to do with each other. Perhaps it was an irrational fear, but neither had proper examples; her grandmother passed away when she was very small, her grandfather never remarried, and Sirius' parents were a model for how to fail at marriage. They would be going into it blind, and why mess with something that was perfect the way it was? There was plenty of time for marriage further down the road, if they so chose, when they were a bit older and wiser.

"Well… then…" he answered hesitantly. "You said it yourself – it's only a piece of paper. What difference does it make if we _don't_ get married?"

James sent him a frail smile. "It doesn't. I only wanted you to be happy for me."

"You know what? I am. It makes sense. You're definitely the marrying kind, as they say. But I'll wait to congratulate you, as you haven't asked her yet."

"What, you think she'll say no?"

"Not like she's never turned you down before."

James rolled his eyes miserably and started walking.

"You're really nervous about this, aren't you?"

"I'm only asking the girl I've loved since first year to be my wife."

"You've got loads of time to come up with a plan. Just – do something romantic. She'll love it."

"You're no help."

"Yes, I am. Listen," he said as he swung an arm round James' shoulders, "as your best man, I'm here to help you."

"How do you know I didn't change my mind about the best man thing?"

"Because who's better than me?"

"Lily, of course."

Sirius winced, rubbing a hand over his heart. "Ouch, mate, that hurt."

"You'll get over it," said James, giving him a good natured shove.

They sneaked their way out from behind the tapestry, peering about before stepping into the corridor.

"Feels like it was yesterday we were eleven years old," said Sirius, "and Lily couldn't look at you without wrinkling her nose. I can't believe she ever went for you."

"Sometimes I can't either. Then again, who would've thought O'Neill would go for you?"

Sirius chuckled. "No one, including myself."

"Glad they came to their senses," James said smugly, then laughed, elbowing Sirius. "Remember how far away our last day of Hogwarts seemed?"

Sirius stared wistfully ahead, immersed in the past. "It was never going to happen."

"And now it's here… just like that."

"It went faster than we thought."

"And we already have to make adult decisions."

" _C'est la vie_ , Prongs."

James slowed to a slop. "Listen," he whispered. "If we're going to join the resistance, then I think you're right. Now's the time. Voldemort's not going away. The more people against him, the better chance there is of stopping him."

"So you want to talk to Dumbledore tonight?"

James nodded as he blew out a breath. "Do you think they let wizards who've just finished school join?"

"I don't think they're in a position to be choosy," said Sirius. "They need all the help they can get."

As they continued on, James had another thought. "Have you spoken to Annabelle about this? Because I can't do this without at least letting Lily know. Not that I require _permission_ ," he said with an exaggerated smirk, "but I can't keep things from her."

"Annie's mentioned wanting to join, but…" He sighed helplessly. "Is it wrong that I don't want her to?"

"No, but you can't stop her. That is, if she still wants to join. She'll find out, Sirius. They both will, and they'll want to know why we hid it from them."

"What do you suggest we do, then?"

"Tell them our plans, that's all. You know it's the right thing to do."

"Fine, but not until after we speak to Dumbledore. No point in telling them before there's anything to tell."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

After the Awards Ceremony, which was more emotional than usual because it was the last one, and their last time being awarded the house cup, James and Sirius made an excuse about returning a Frisbee to the Muggle Studies classroom, and slipped away to wait for Dumbledore at his office.

"He'll want to know how we knew to ask him," said James.

"Not if we're clever about it. We can ask if he knows about the resistance first, pretend like we don't know he knows."

"You don't think he'll see right through that?"

Sirius shrugged one shoulder. "We don't have to admit to anything."

"Right. We'll lie to his face."

"What? You want to tell him we were eavesdropping on his highly classified conversation inside a secret passageway we're not supposed to know about?"

"He's going to know, Sirius."

"Fine, if he knows, he knows. He should still be willing to talk to us about it."

"Don't count on it."

"Don't be so pessimistic. It isn't like you."

"I just don't think he'll be willing to talk about it to two of the biggest headaches of his entire career."

"Perhaps, but we're highly skilled headaches willing to fight for a noble cause. Our past behaviour doesn't diminish our potential."

James perked up, looking toward the stairs. "He's coming."

Sirius stood a bit straighter. "Right. Here goes nothing."

The familiar sparkle was in Dumbledore's eyes as he surveyed the two young men waiting for him. "Good evening, Mr. Potter, Mr. Black. How may I help?"

"We have something to ask," said Sirius, "but it's not something we should talk about out here."

"Let me be the judge of that. Go on, what is this regarding?"

James and Sirius glanced at each other before James whispered, "The resistance."

Dumbledore gazed at them thoughtfully, then dropped his head. "Follow me into my office."

Once the door was closed, Dumbledore did a quick check for human presence.

"Why are you asking _me_ about the resistance?" he said as he took a seat behind his desk. "I'm just an old professor."

"You're a powerful wizard," said James, "and you're also on the Wizengamot, which makes you more than a professor."

"Ah yes, a sound observation Mr. Potter, but not one that proves I can answer your question. What exactly do you want to know about this supposed resistance?"

"How we can join," Sirius blurted out.

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, his eyes intent upon them. Then he sat forward rather suddenly.

"What makes you think the resistance exists?"

"Mercury and Lux – they've mentioned it on air," said James.

"You've been listening to _Veritas_ I see. Ah well… I reckon there's worse things you could be listening to."

"We're adults now, Professor," said Sirius. "And we want to do our part."

"And what part is that?"

"Fighting back. We can't stand by and watch this madman destroy everything!"

Dumbledore heaved another sigh and stood up, pacing to the window. "What about your futures? At the Ministry? At St. Mungo's?

"We'll manage," said James. "We've balanced Quidditch with multiple subjects for years."

Dumbledore chuckled, but there was a resignation in it. "If anyone could manage, it would be the two of you… but I think you would find it exhausting."

Sirius knew he was referring to himself; running Hogwarts whilst fighting Voldemort must have been a trial.

"It would be worth it," said Sirius, "to be part of it."

"Even if I did know something about it, it would have go through several other's approval, I'm sure."

"Yes, but you could vouch for us," said James. "You know we're trustworthy."

Dumbledore turned to them, motioning to the door. "I'm afraid I can't speak to you about this so-called resistance, but if you're sure it exists, and you truly want to be part of it, the answers will come to you." He opened the door, ushering them out. "Good night Mr. Potter and Mr. Black. Get some sleep."

"Yes, sir," droned James, defeated.

"Oh, and one more thing."

"Yes, professor?"

"Be careful in the secret passageway. Eavesdropping works both ways, you know."

They froze, blinking at him with their mouths agape. "We – um – we didn't mean to-" stammered James, but Dumbledore raised a hand.

"It's quite all right. I do love a wedding." He sent them a sly smile and a wink before closing his door.

"It's a secret!" James called out, but the door had already clicked shut. "Guess we have to work on our stealth skills."

Sirius scowled. "Why is he always so cryptic? _'The answers will come to you.'_ It's like he enjoys toying with us."

"He probably doesn't want to talk about it here, when anyone might be listening."

"Perhaps. But he's right about one thing. We'll find our answers."

He wanted to tell James all about Mercury and Lux, how easy it would be to find out the details, but he couldn't betray his promise to them. He would never be allowed to join if he couldn't be trusted to keep a secret. Besides, once they were in, it would all be revealed anyway.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Dumbledore's part of the Resistance?" Lily asked, her eyes wide with shock. "I mean, of course he is. Why wouldn't he be. But still…"

"Makes him seem cool," said Peter. "Weird, yeah?"

"I've always thought Dumbledore was cool," said Remus.

"You would," said Peter.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, nothing."

Remus' lingering glare caused Peter to turn away and rummage through his mostly empty night stand.

"I've always thought he was cool, as well," said James. "Just because he's a million years old doesn't mean he can't be cool."

"All right, he's cool," snapped Peter. "If you say so. Now can we get back to the resistance? Can anyone join, or do we have to be chosen?"

"He said he couldn't discuss it," said Sirius, "but 'the answers would come to us,' whatever that means."

"Maybe he'll contact you outside of school," said Annabelle.

"Maybe," said Sirius. "Which means we have to wait around until he decides the time is right."

"If he doesn't contact us, we can always contact him," said Remus. "He can't ignore us forever."

"True," said James. "We're pretty difficult to ignore."

Alice, who had been particularly quiet, put her hands over her face.

"What is it, Alice?" Lily asked.

When she didn't respond, Sirius inhaled sharply. "You know about it! Come on, Alice, tell us…"

She shook her head, her face still hidden. "I can't."

"But you can trust us," said Annabelle. "Are you a part of it?"

"Not yet," she said, dropping her hands to her lap. "But I swore an oath of secrecy – anything I hear about the fight against Voldemort mustn't be revealed."

"But you can find out how to join," said James. "Correct?"

"I can try."

Annabelle caught Sirius' eye, and he knew what she was thinking. If necessary, Marlene would tell them. It might take a while to convince her, but in the end, Marlene and Cory would do whatever it took to fight the darkness bleeding into their world.

"Are you sure it's the right thing to do?" asked Peter.

"Is what the right thing?" asked Sirius.

"Fighting Voldemort. We're not trained Aurors or law enforcement. We're teenagers, just out of school. I mean, what makes you think they would want us?"

Sirius' eyes narrowed. "You heard Mercury and Lux, there aren't enough Aurors to fight him. Voldemort's ranks are growing. They need all the help they can get."

"Relax, mate, it was a thought. That's all."

"You don't have to join, you know," challenged Sirius, "if you don't want to. No one is forcing you."

Peter grimaced, offended by Sirius' remark. "Why wouldn't I join? I want him defeated as much as everyone else. I may not be the world's most gifted wizard, but I'm not a total eejit either."

"I never said you were."

"No one is an eejit," interjected James, "and of course Pete's joining. End of story."

"I'm joining, as well," said Lily.

"So am I," said Annabelle.

There was a charged silence before Sirius replied, "You don't have to."

James shot Sirius a look of warning, then said to Lily and Annabelle, "But we're not telling you what to do, all right?"

Annabelle stared at Sirius. "No one has to join. We can sit idly by, waiting for our demise, but I'd rather not."

"I'd rather not, as well," said Lily.

"How about we wait to find out what it entails," suggested Sirius. "Maybe you won't want to…" He stopped as the girls shot him daggers with their eyes. Swallowing hard, he said, "Or maybe you will."

"You sound right sexist," sneered Peter. "Why shouldn't they want to?"

"That's precious, coming from you," snapped Sirius, "the king of all sexists! And I never said they _shouldn't_ want to, you bloody instigator."

"If I'm the king of all sexists, then you're the emperor."

"How so?!"

"Would you two belt up already?" admonished James. "Merlin, is this how you want to spend our last night at Hogwarts? In a row? No one said they shouldn't join, so drop it. Not a single one of us can join until we find out how."

Sirius and Peter traded one last glare before darting their eyes away from each other. Sirius looked to Annabelle, and there was hurt in her expression.

_Want to go for a walk?_ he mouthed.

She shrugged half-heartedly, then rose from where she was seated beside Lily. "We're going for a walk," she told her as Sirius stalked to the door.

"You're leaving?" asked James incredulously.

"Need some air," he replied, glowering at Peter's back as he flipped through a pile of papers.

James shook his head, but didn't push the matter. He knew how easily Peter could get under Sirius' skin. It was best to let him cool off on his own terms.

Once they exited the common room, Sirius noticed Annabelle's demeanour hadn't changed.

"You're upset because I said you might not want to join."

"Is Peter right?" she asked as she walked. "Is it because I'm a girl? Because so is Marlene, and Alice, and Phyllis' sister, and-"

"No… no. It's not that."

"Because we've talked about this. We've talked about joining _together_. Why are you suddenly being strange about it?

"Merlin, Annie, I wish no one had to fight him! In fact, I'd be perfectly content if he just went away, never to be heard from again."

They walked on in silence, Annabelle with her arms crossed over her chest. Tears burned her eyes, and she wiped them away, but more arrived in their place. Sirius stopped walking, and took her gently by the arm. She turned toward him, but didn't meet his gaze.

"Please don't cry. I'm sorry for sounding like a sexist knobhead. But I love you so much, and the thought…" He coughed, trying to remain calm, but it was getting harder to contain his fear. "I don't want anything to happen to you," he continued in a shaky voice. "But as much as I want to protect you, I won't try to stop you from fighting for what's right."

She nodded and sniffled, but still didn't look at him. Taking her hand, he led her between two suits of armour, which gave them a small measure of privacy.

"Please don't be angry with me," he begged her. With his hands on her cheeks, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Please. I'm sorry."

"I know you are," she said. "But the thing is… well…"

"What is it? You can tell me."

"I… I don't want you to join either. And before you respond, let me say that I know you'll do whatever you feel is right, because it's who you are, but I'm as frightened as you are of losing everyone I care about, so… we're being honest, yeah?"

"Of course."

With a single, resolute nod, she looked him straight in the eyes. "So I'm joining, because if you're risking your life to save us from Voldemort, you aren't doing it without me. I can't let you do it without _me_."

He ran his hand over her cheek and into hair, then kissed her temple, then her cheek. She moved her lips to meet his, and his hands moved down her neck and over her the length of her, settling at last on her hips where they tugged her closer.

"Remember the last time we kissed between suits of armour?" she whispered.

"I remember it well. One of the best days of my life."

She grinned, her fingers buried in the roots of his hair as he kissed her neck. "Maybe we should go to the tower before Filch catches us," she breathed, her skin tingling where his lips touched her.

"Good plan."

Forcing themselves apart, they hurried to the secret tower for the last time. Slowing down as two prefects rounded the corner at the end of the corridor, they scurried to the crack in the wall, lifted the charm so they could slip inside, and replaced it so no unexpected guests could surprise them.

The mattress was still there from the last time they visited, and they fell onto it, desperate to be with each other one last time in their special place, before the world shifted beneath their feet and a new chapter of their lives began.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

After Sirius and Annabelle left the boys' room, Remus turned to Peter. "Why do you always feel the need to have a go at him?"

"He's always having a go at me."

"That's all in your head," said James. "He's no different to you than he is to anyone else. And you did take a shot at him in front of Annie."

"So? Because his girlfriend is here I can't defend myself?"

"You're mates. You shouldn't be fighting on our last night at school."

Peter huffed, but said no more. Remus was watching James as he packed, one or two items of clothing at a time, gliding through the air before landing messily in his trunk.

"Prongs. You're not even trying."

"What?" James followed his stare to his trunk. "Packing? It's not like I'm getting marked on it."

"Still," he said, aiming his wand at the wrinkled mess. " _Meticulo_."

James watched as the clothes refolded themselves. "Nice work, Moony. But you didn't have to do that."

"I know, but it was bothering me."

"And so it begins," said Alice, smirking.

"It was just the one time," Remus said in his own defence.

"Sure it was," snickered Lily.

"You should be thanking me, Lil. He's going to be living with you someday, and you'll appreciate the work I put in."

James furrowed his brow. "Hello, I'm right here, and you're talking about me like I'm a puppy that needs training."

"Well," said Remus, "if the collar fits."

"I think you're confusing me with Sirius."

Lily put her hands on her hips. "Sirius' untidiness is his way of rebelling against his strict upbringing. What's your excuse?"

James chuckled self-consciously. "Don't worry, I'll get there."

He was embarrassed to admit it, but she had a point. He was used to his mum and his house-elf, Dotty, doing everything for him, and he was well aware that living on his own meant learning to do mundane, housekeeping tasks for himself. Sirius, on the other hand, had been expected to maintain his environment with little help from Kreacher, or face the consequences. Now he was doing the opposite of what his parents had expected of him, because he could. Eventually, he'd realise folding clothes didn't equal surrender, and he'd be back to neatness again. Either that, or Remus' nagging would drive him to it.

Lily pecked James on the lips. "I know you will. Now, speaking of packing, I'm going to finish. Thanks for speaking to Dumbledore… sounds like he's taking your request seriously." There was a hint of fear in her eyes, but then she smiled. "See you in a bit."

As he watched her and Alice go, a sense of sadness nudged him. If only Voldemort could be stopped tomorrow, then leaving school wouldn't feel quite so precarious. He should be excited, and in some ways he was, but he couldn't shake the feeling that things were going to get much worse before they got better.

"Lily is a strong, skilled witch," said Remus. "And she's clever. Probably has more common sense than the lot of us put together. The resistance will be better for having her a part of it."

"I hope so," said James. He swallowed painfully, then went back to packing, being much more meticulous about it than before.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Sirius peeked his head out the crack in the wall, making sure they were in the clear to leave. Chances of being caught were slim, since the entrance was tucked away behind a large pillar, which was behind a statue of some centuries-old wizard. But they were careful anyway, not wanting to be questioned about their comings and goings on their last day.

"Let's go," he said, and they dashed into the corridor, holding in the urge to laugh. Resting against the bannister of the grand staircase, Sirius pulled her into his arms once more. "I almost feel guilty using that place to our advantage."

"Do you really?"

"On second thought, no. Not at all."

Annabelle giggled, her eyes closing as he kissed her. But then they opened wide, and darted to the statue.

"What?" asked Sirius, turning to see what had caught her attention.

On the base of the statue sat Severus Snape, his face contorted like he was smelling something dreadful.

"Look who it is," taunted Sirius. "Still sneaking about, minding everyone's business but his own. Some people never change."

"Just as you did when you took it upon yourself to investigate what potion I was brewing."

"I owed you one. And I never did find out why you needed that potion to begin with. Right dodgy, you are, brewing suspicious potions, creeping about, inserting yourself into our lives in the most conniving ways."

Annabelle urged him away, but he didn't budge. "Sirius, don't waste your breath on him. Let's go."

Severus glared at them. "For your information, I'm here because I'm waiting for a friend, and had no idea you were nearby. I've no interest in what a pair of deviants such as yourselves are up to."

Sirius' top lip twitched. "Maybe your friend could lend you some soap."

"Sirius!" Annabelle whispered sharply. "Don't lower yourself. Come on, let's go."

"Same tired jokes," said Severus.

"Same oily hair," said Sirius.

Annabelle pulled at his arm, causing him to stagger, but then he went willingly, falling into step beside her.

"Your hair will only get you so far in life, Black," called Severus, "especially when the brains beneath it are sorely _lacking_."

Sirius stopped, his jaw clenched, but Annabelle pulled his face to hers. "Let him have the last word."

"Why should I?"

"Because it's all he has. Everyone knows you're not lacking in brains, and that he's the deviant. He's only trying to rattle you. He'll feel like an arse if you don't respond, so don't."

Sirius took a deep breath and continued on with her, not looking back. "Here's hoping that after tomorrow, we've seen the last of him."

Annabelle did glance back, feeling a pang of pity when she saw the pale, scrawny boy staring down at his shoes, a look of misery on his face. Perhaps he didn't deserve her pity, as she had tried to be his friend first year, and was met with rejection and hostility. Watching Lily make new friends had been too painful for him. And he had done loads of dodgy things, including his attempt to ruin Remus' life. But as much as he'd brought the ire of Sirius and his mates upon himself, she still felt sorry for him. He seemed so _lonely_. She hoped someday he might find it in himself to be happy.

"And here's to making our own happiness," she said, "even when others try to steal it from us."

"That we will."

Seeing her with her chin up and a determined glint in her eye, Sirius felt convinced it was possible. Happier days were ahead; he had no doubt. He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. "You always help me see the bright side."

_You are my bright side,_ she thought, but didn't say it for fear of sounding like a Destiny Adorabella song. Instead, she said, "I do my best."

That evening, after everyone was finished packing, all the seventh-years gravitated to the common room – even Dominica, who over time, had returned almost completely to her usual vibrant self. Hours were spent reminiscing and laughing themselves silly, and holding back tears as well. Squashed between Sirius and Johnny B. on the sofa, Annabelle looked round at the familiar faces of her housemates, remembering back to the day they were sorted. Not that she would miss all of them equally, and the ones who meant the most to her she would still see daily, but there was a sadness in endings she couldn't dismiss.

Waking up was difficult the next morning, but she pulled herself out of bed for the last time. To think, she would never wake up in this bed, this room, or this castle, ever again. It didn't seem possible. She went through her morning routine at a slower pace, taking in each moment and committing it to memory. The creak of the floorboard on the right side of her bed, the squeak of the tap in the bathroom, Alice's customary yawn and stretch after she awoke, Lily's mad hair-brushing that sent long strands of auburn red floating to the floor… she wanted to keep these small, predictable events tucked away, always within reach when nostalgia or homesickness crept up on her, as they undoubtedly would.

Breakfast was unhurried, as though they could keep the inevitable at bay if they ate slowly enough. Students ran about saying goodbyes to their professors, many happy for the coming break from school. It was strange to think they had been excited for summer once, and in many ways they still were, but this farewell was tinged with finality.

"Once we find flats we need to have a massive party," said Peter.

"At _your_ flat," said Alice. "Not ours."

Annabelle smiled as the conversation shifted to parties and flats and all their wonderful plans. Maybe things wouldn't be so different after all.

After breakfast, it was time to gather their belongings. Annabelle had said goodbye to all her professors except for McGonagall, as she had left the Great Hall before Annabelle had a chance. In the midst of the commotion in Gryffindor tower, Annabelle popped out to McGonagall's office. Knocking softly, she called through the door, "Professor? It's Annabelle O'Neill."

She heard the clacking of the older witch's shoes, and the door opened. "What is it, Miss O'Neill?"

"I wanted to say good-bye – I looked for you in the Great Hall but you'd left already."

"Yes, well, I'm not very good at goodbyes I'm afraid."

"Nor am I." As Annabelle smiled, fear suddenly clutched her. This was really it – she would be responsible for herself now. No more Dumbledore handling her finances, no more meals ready and waiting, and perhaps the most paralyzing prospect to Annabelle, no more McGonagall to quietly watch over her. Tears filled her eyes. "Thank you… for everything."

Being of the tough-love sort, McGonagall held her head high, taking a stern approach at comfort. "Now, now. No tears. You've done very well for yourself here… your grandfather would be very proud. Now it's time to make your mark at the Ministry, just as he did."

"I'll miss you," said Annabelle, another tear falling.

McGonagall placed a hand on Annabelle's cheek. "Oh come here," she said, pulling her into a hug. "I'm never far away if you need me. But I have a feeling you'll do just fine. Now be on your way, dear. The train won't wait for dawdlers."

Annabelle swallowed thickly, and took a deep breath. With one last look at her favourite professor, she hurried back to Gryffindor Tower.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Saying goodbye to their bedroom and common room had the girls in tears again, confusing the younger students who were thrilled to be free for the summer.

"But you never have to write another three foot paper, or read boring history of magic books, or memorise potions, or any of that stuff ever again!" said Zelda as Annabelle took one last look round. Almost everyone had left, gone to meet the carriages, but she lingered, trying to soak it up.

"I know, but I'll have other responsibilities. Not like I'm embarking on some life-long holiday."

"Still, it's better than school work. Promise you'll write?"

"I've promised you five times today, Zelda."

"Good. Don't forget!"

"I won't."

Sirius was standing by the portrait, leaning against the wall in his nonchalant way, and when she turned to him, he offered her his hand. "Ready?"

"No, but I may never be," she said, crossing the room and taking it. "Are you?"

As he led her through the portrait hole, he said, "Sure I am. I'm taking the best things about Hogwarts with me, you being at the very top of the list."

His charm still had a way of making her weak in the knees. "Kiss me one more time outside the common room, for old time's sake?"

Zelda's eyes went wide. "At least wait until I leave!"

"Then be gone with you," Sirius teased as the now thirteen-year-old flew down the stairs.

"See you on the train," she called back to them.

"Is that a threat?" Sirius responded.

"Ha ha. You're so hilarious," Zelda's voice drifted up to them.

After a second or two to make sure she was gone, Annabelle glanced coyly at him. "I reckon we should make this fast, since-"

His mouth stopped her words, and for a moment, all worry over the future left her. She was taking the best thing about Hogwarts with her, the one person who could bring her out of her homesickness and who brought her a wealth of joy.

"Sirius," James called from below, causing them to break apart. "Are you still up there?"

"On our way now," Sirius called back, then pressed his lips to hers once more, hard and fast. When he pulled back, she noticed his eyes were misty, but then his mouth quirked up in a half smile, and he offered her his arm. "Shall we?" he asked.

She grinned. "We shall."

And with that, they descended the stairs and joined their friends, taking their memories, and each other with them.

**The End**

 


End file.
